

I 




Class _L^4_U5l 



Book 



il 



GopiglitN°_ 



aii 



COPVRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



THE CHILD 

Ills THINKING, FEELING, AND DOING 



By 
AMY ELIZA JANNER 

Lecturer in Children's Institute 
Clark University 

With an Introducliojt by 
G. STANLEY HALL 



Revised and 
enlarged edition 



RAND McNALLY & COMPANY 

Chicago New York 



Copyright, 1904, 
By Amy Eliza Tanner 

Revised and enlarged edition 

Copyright, IQ15, ^ 

By Amy Eliza Tanner v \ S* 



®^e Itlanb - ^cSlaUH Vr*»0 



Chicago 

M. 24 J3I5 

©CI.A401886 



THE TABLE OF CONTENTS 



CHAPTER 


The Preface ...... 


PAGE 
I 




Preface to the Revised Edition . 


3 




The Introduction 


6 


I 


General Remarks .... 


9 


II 


Growth of the Body .... 


. i8 


III 


Common Diseases and Defects 


36 


IV 


Defects of Sight, Hearing, and thi 






Nervous System .... 


60 


V 


Feelings and Ideas of Sex 


87 


VI 


Nature versus Nurture . 


103 


VII 


Sensation and Perception 


135 


VIII 


Memory 


172 


IX 


Imagination 


200 


X 


Conception and Reasoning 


224 


XI 


Religious Sentiment and Theologicai 






Ideas 


261 


XII 


Conception of Good and Evil . 


285 


XIII 


Feelings and Emotions 


313 


XIV 


Impulsive, Reflex, and Instinctive 






Movements 


335 


XV 


Growth in Control of the Body . 


356 


XVI 


Imitation and Suggestion . 


371 


XVII 


Language 


392 


XVIII 


Rhythm, Dancing, and Music . 


424 


XIX 


Drawing . . . ..'. ■'^. -. 


465 



V 



iv The Tabic of Contents 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XX Play~ 487 

XXI The Child IN A Democracy . . .513 

Key to Abbreviations in References found in 

"The Child" ...... 526 

'The Index . . , . . . . • 53o 



THE PREFACE 

TN working over the mass of material which has 
accumulated on child study, I have been most 
impressed by the fact that even now so few general 
laws can be formulated about child nature. The 
material is still in a chaotic state, and seems destined 
to remain so for some time, because the reports from 
different authorities are so conflicting. In many cases 
the conflict is doubtless due to different conditions of 
observation; but in other cases it is due to differences 
in children resulting 'from heredity and nationality, or 
from surroundings — homes, food, and education. I 
therefore appreciate the fact that some of the observa- 
tions given here will be seriously modified by later ones. 
I do not necessarily defend the observations which I 
cite; I only present the most reliable and leave them 
for confirmation or rebuttal. 

On this account, I have not attempted to draw many 
general conclusions, or to work out any complete 
educational theory. I have aimed rather to bring 
together under one cover a summary of the important 
work done thus far in child study, so that the teacher 
and mother who have little access to libraries may under- 
stand something of what the condition of the subject 
is, and may, if so disposed, contribute toward filling 
up its gaps. This side of the matter is the more promi- 
nent in my own mind because the book is the direct 
outcome of the difficulties which I met in teaching the 
subject to my classes in the University College of the 
University of Chicago. There seemed to be a need 



2 The Preface 

for a book which should give a resume of observations 
which at that time were to be obtained only in all sorts 
of magazines and books, and which were yet necessary 
to an understanding of the subject. Such a book would 
also, it seemed to me, furnish something of the per- 
spective which is necessarily lacking in scattered reading, 
would serve as a stimulus to more careful study of the 
children with whom we deal every day, and would aid 
in preparing the soil for a better educational theory than 
at present prevails. 

Although lacking in theory, the book should still 
serve as a background upon which to sketch in details 
of the child whom we know best. In the study of one 
child or of a few children, to which most of us are 
limited, we are rather prone to conclude that charac- 
teristics which are in truth peculiar to the little group 
known to us belong to all children. A knowledge of 
these wider observations will prevent such errors and 
will lead to more careful study. 

Grateful acknowledgment is hereby made to Dr. 
Stuart H. Rowe, Lecturer on Pedagogy at Yale Uni- 
versity, who read the manuscript of this book and made 
many valuable suggestions; to the Pedagogical Seminary 
for permission to reproduce the charts found on pages 
411 and 502; to the Elementary School Record for per- 
mission to quote from Mrs. May Root Kern's article 
on Song Composition, and to the many authors whose 
works I have consulted freely. 

Amy Eliza Tanner. 
December, 1903. 



PREFACE TO THE REVISED EDITION 

T N going over the child-study literature of the last 
ten years, what most impresses one is the fact that 
the formerly somewhat shapeless material is arranging 
itself into specialized and technical aspects. Some of 
these cannot be discussed in this book, but should be 
at least briefly referred to here. School hygiene, includ- 
ing medical inspection of schools, is now almost a sep- 
arate subject, with its own literature, journal, and 
congress. Almost the same is true of the study of 
defective children, though this is closely bound up on 
one side with studies in heredity and on another with 
the problem of tests and standards of intelligence. The 
latter is itself one of the most complex and important 
of recent developments. Many practical benefits wait 
for the discovery of trustworthy tests, such as the treat- 
ment of juvenile delinquents, vocational guidance, and 
the encouragement of talent, to say nothing of the 
separation in school of subnormal from normal children. 
Again, there is a considerable body of Hterature on the 
methods of collecting and using data, the best ways 
of presenting data in curves, tables, and figures, and 
so on. Experimental pedagogy is another phase, though 
its boundaries are still not clearly defined. In general 
it is the application to teaching of the accredited results 
of child study, and its fundamental motivation is to 
clear the way in our schools for the normal learning 
process in all subjects, instead of forcing the child's 
mind to take' the roundabout and wasteful routes so 
often demanded now. When it is fully developed it 



4 Preface to the R'evised Edition 

will take the place of the old courses in "methods" — 
and indeed it is already doing this in places not a few. 
Still other phases with journals and a large literature 
are sex hygiene and instruction, play and playgrounds, 
and moral and religious education. 

It is evident from the above that a book like this 
cannot attempt to deal with all these sides of child study. 
It has seemed to me, therefore, that the best that could 
be done for the beginners for whom this book is intended 
is to supply certain standard references which would 
open to them the literature on all these subjects, and 
to discuss in the book itself those subjects which seem 
most suitable for a first book. 

Among the many valuable studies which have appeared 
since 1904, when the first edition of this book was pub- 
lished, the chief source books in English are Dr. G. 
Stanley Hall's volumes on Adolescence and Problems of 
Education. In German the second edition of Meumann's 
Vorlesungen (2 vols., approximately 1,600 pages, 191 1) is 
the great storehouse of information. Rusk's Introduction 
to Experimental Education gives a large part of what is 
in Meumann's first edition, with additions of works in 
English. A student who has access to these four books 
can find his way to most of the other literature through 
their summaries and bibliographies. 

The bibliographies in this book, though not complete 
even of English writings, still aim to give the important 
contributions. I have included only occasional refer- 
ences in German, French, and Italian, because they are 
usually inaccessible to beginners and would therefore 
add httle to the practical value of the hsts. A student 
wishing foreign articles and books can find them by go- 
ing to the books above mentioned and to the bibliogra- 
phies referred to in my lists. Articles in the Pedagogical 



Preface to the Revised Edition 5 

Seminary and the Journal of Educational Psychology 
usually have good bibliographies. The Clark Uni- 
versity Library, under the direction of Dr. L. N. 
Wilson, has published since 1899 an annual bibHog- 
raphy of books and articles on child study (now issued 
as one of the bulletins of the Bureau of Education, 
Washington). For articles on physical growth and 
training, sports, athletics, and kindred subjects, the 
American Physical Education Review (Springfield, Mass.) 
pubHshes a quarterly bibliography of works in English. 
The current magazines referred to at the end of each 
chapter also often have good book notices and reviews. 

In conclusion, it is a pleasure to add my name to 
the long list of those who acknowledge their indebted- 
ness to Dr. Hall for numerous suggestions and con- 
stant inspiration. 

Amy Eliza Tanner. 

Clark University, 
January, igiS 



THE INTRODUCTION 

T7*0R a number of years after its appearance in 1904 
this book was the best of its size on its general 
subject. Since then several other excellent manuals 
have appeared, and the literature, particular!}^ in German, 
has greatly increased in volume, while the theoretical field 
and the domain of practical application have widened, 
so that besides the nearly one hundred additional pages, 
the work of reconstruction necessary to a new edition 
had to be radical and extended, and the references nearly 
trebled in number. Much of the matter has been worked 
over in the author's Saturday morning lectures at Clark 
University, and it has all been especially adapted to 
textbook purposes in colleges and normal schools, where 
it ought to have wide use. The last should always be 
the best, and I think The Child meets this requirement, 
excellent as are its competitors. At any rate, the copious 
reference addenda will be very helpful to teachers and 
experts as well as to students in this field. 

So vast has the domain of child study, or paidology, 
now become; so central and all conditioning not only 
for school work but for all the score of agencies of child 
welfare; so important for the home, Sunday school, 
juvenile court, care of defective and dependent children; 
so. vitally concerned with the method and matter of 
every school topic, as well as with every item of hygiene, 
eugenics, play, child labor, moral and religious training, 
and so on, that the work of selection and proper perspec- 
tive, and the decision of what to omit, may well tax any 

6 



The Introduction 7 

author's power of judgment, and that to the uttermost, 
at every step. But in scanning these pages I think the 
judicious expert will agree with me that this task has 
been well accomplished. Indeed, it is on the whole a 
book I should like to have written myself, and I can 
only congratulate the author on the successful accom- 
plishment of a most perplexing and at the same time a 
most important task and bespeak for her work the large 
place that it so well deserves among all who are interested 
in childhood. 

Genetic psychology has three divisions, — animals, 
primitive man, and children. Not only do these three 
stand in close and sympathetic relation with each other, 
children being particularly interested in animals and 
savages, but the scientific study of each sheds Hght on the 
others, childhood particularly being a new-found key 
to the stages of the development of mind in the world. 
The Freud-Adler literature has in recent years shed a 
new light upon all the early phases of child development 
and greatly magnified the importance of infancy, not only 
for all later steps in the unfoldment of the mature mind 
in general, but finding in apparently slight abnormalities 
in the silent and unremembered first quadrennium the 
germs of about every psychic and nervous disorder in 
adult life, including every form of arrest. Moreover, 
the unconscious, which is now looming up in a way that 
promises to make it a large part of the psychology of the 
future, is coming to be actually identified with childhood, 
Freud going so far as to declare in round terms, "Das 
Unbewusste ist das Kindliche." 

Up to a few years ago it could be truthfully said that in 
this country we had lost touch with childhood and its 
nature and needs to a degree without parallel in all the 
world. Besides the nearly one million childless homes, 



8 The Introduction 

the relegation of parental duties to the school and church 
and other public agencies, the relative increase of delin- 
quent, defective, and even dependent classes, and the 
dull mechanization of education and its methods and 
matter, the scantiness of toj^s, plays, and games and the 
rapid urbanization of our life have been very hard on 
children. Now a Copernican revolution from the scholio- 
centric to the paidocentric view of education has begun, 
and everything — topics, order, methods of teaching, 
and study— is becoming more and more plastic to the 
nature and needs of childhood, as the degree of adjust- 
ment to childhood is the standard by which not only 
progress in all pedagogic fields but the effectiveness of 
every human institution and of progress in general is 
best measured. If there is such a thing as a "call to 
teach" it consists in loving children, and with love go 
insight, the power to serve, and the desire to help each 
child to the maximum development of body and soul of 
which he is capable. When vocational guidance is fully 
developed those intending to teach will ask themselves 
the question, which is the supreme test of their fitness, 
"Do I really love cliildren?" Those who do not have 
no right to teach. To incline those who read it to know 
children better, because this means to love them more 
insightfully and efficiently, has been, I believe, the 

author's chief purpose. 

G. Stanley Hall. 
Clark University, 
January, IQ15 



THE CHILD 

HIS THINKING, FEELING, AND DOING 

CHAPTER I 

General Remarks 

"XJATURALLY enough, children have always been 

■*- ^ objects of the greatest care and solicitude to 

society, and have always been observed and ^, ., , , , 

1-1 1 1 • 1 , . , Child study : 

studied, as early educational theories show, its impor- 

Still, while some systematic observation t*"ce 
has been done before, it has been left for our scientific 
age to attempt to reduce children, along with men, to the 
terms of a general formula. 

The importance of ascertaining the laws that govern 
the growth of the child's body and mind is apparent 
to the most superficial observer. Until we know how 
a child grows; whether he is of the average height and 
weight or not; whether he has the average control of 
his body or not; whether he shows signs of nervousness 
or not, we can know nothing of what the correct treat- 
ment for that child is. We may hit accidentally upon 
it, but we are just as likely to leave the child to suffer 
from improper food or exercise or work. Similarly, 
until we know the general characteristics of each stage 
of mental development, we are unprepared to say what 
a child should study and how much he can do. We 
cannot settle any of the questions concerning the courses 
of study, the order of subjects and the mode of presenting 
a subject, except as we know the child nature which 
we expect to develop by our education. 



10 The Child 

But when we ask what this child nature is, we find 
ourselves face to face with the most important and 
most unsolved problems of biology and 
Genetic psychology. In the first place, we must 

keep in mind that the newborn baby comes 
into the world "trailing clouds," but whether of glory or 
of shame depends upon his ancestry. He is not a blank 
sheet of paper upon which we may write what we will, 
but from the beginning responds to stimuli in ways that 
are determined by his inheritance. It is supposed that 
direct inheritance from the parents has the most potent 
effect; from the grandparents one half as much as from 
the parents, the next generation back one half as much 
again, and so on back to the first ancestor. Biology 
cannot yet tell us definitely how this is brought about, 
nor how progress made by the parents can be transmitted 
to the children, though there is little doubt of either as a 
general truth. We must therefore first of all remember 
that in dealing with a baby we are to some extent dealing 
with psychic processes — instincts, feelings, and so on — 
that have their roots far back of human existence in 
animal life, and probably in some cases very primitive 
forms of animal life, as well as with processes that are 
distinctively human and individual. 

But again, when we thus assume that a child sums up 
or recapitulates the race experience, psychically and 
p. . , phj^sically, we must understand what this 

recapitula- means. The earlier ideas on these points 
**°° were very crude. According to them, a 

himian being in the course of embryonic development 
passes through all the great stages of animal life — such as 
an amoeba stage, invertebrate stage, fish stage, monkey 
stage, and so on, — and is essentially like that genus at that 
stage. Psychically the same was assumed to be true, 



General Re m arks 1 1 

and at birth the child was supposed to have innate and 
inherited ideas which determined his reactions to objects. 
The truth is far more complex and can as yet be only 
tentatively stated. It is beyond question that in its 
development the human embryo shows traces of its very 
primitive ancestors. During the first month, for instance, 
there are gill slits in the neck which indicate a fish-like 
stage. There are also fornied at an early stage amoeba- 
like cells, and some of these persist in the blood. But 
this is very far from saying that the embryo is at this 
stage a fish, and so on. On the contrary, one of the most 
characteristic things about the human embryo is the very 
early stage at which the Anlage, or beginning of the brain 
and central nervous system, is laid down, and the great 
prominence which this has through the entire embryonic 
development. That is, the most characteristically human 
organs appear at very early stages in the embryo and 
also develop for the longest time. Some of the most 
primitive organs appear at very early stages but soon 
disappear; others appear at intermediate stages and may 
persist or disappear either before or after birth. No 
law has as yet been stated for this, but perhaps we may 
say in a very general way that organs which have proved 
themselves of great advantage to the species tend thus to 
appear earlier and earlier, and to grow for longer and 
longer times, while those which are either of no use or of 
little use also tend to appear earlier and earlier but 
atrophy sooner and sooner as well. While each individual, 
therefore, in his development both before and after 
birth, shows traces of all his ancestry, the traces do not 
appear in the same order in which animal life has devel- 
oped from lowest to highest, and they are often very 
faint and fleeting. The record is like the geological record 
in a volcanic or earthquake region, in which strata are 



12 The Child 

crumpled and inverted, so that the geologist must know 

what the original arrangement was before he can identify 

the displaced and modified strata. So in ontogenetic or 

individual development, because we already know what 

the phyletic or race development has been in general from 

unicellular life to man, we can to some extent decipher 

the corresponding characteristics in man and see how his 

human career has both changed the order of growth and 

modified the organs and functions. As we learn more 

of man we realize more and more how the later stages of 

phyletic development preponderate in the development of 

each human individual. 

The genetic psychologist must assume that what is true 

of bodily development is paralleled in psychic processes. 

_. ... The crude notion that a baby is bom with 

Psychical 

recapitula- full-fledged innate ideas has long since been 

**°" given up, but so has the equally crude, 

opinion that his mind is like a sheet of unwritten paper, 
which will take any imprint that we choose to give it. 
Here, too, the truth is more complex by far and cannot yet 
be satisfactorily stated. The least that can be said is 
the following : Just as there is a continuous development of 
bodily organs and functions from the beginning of embry- 
onic life up to the mature adult, so there is of psychical 
processes. The nature of these psychical processes is 
determined by the structure of the organism, and especially 
its nervous system, upon which depend the reception 
of and responses to stimuli. We must conceive of a 
continuous gradation of psychical processes from those 
so vague and faint that they never get out of the sub- 
conscious to those that are in the center of attention in 
the most highly developed adult. The battle is still 
being fought among the biologists as to whether organisms 
without a nervous system can be supposed to have any 



General Remarks 13 

form of consciousness, but all agree that there is at least 

some vague sentiency from the stage in which nervous 

ganglia are first found up to man. From then on the 

psychical processes are supposed to increase continuously 

in complexity and distinctness. In the individual 

development also, we certainly cannot question that 

some vague sensational or feeling processes must be 

present in embryonic life at least as early as when the 

Anlage of the brain and nervous system is laid down, 

but here, as in the physical development, the order 

is not the same in the individual as in the race. The 

later stages have profoundly modified the earlier, and 

so, while the psychical processes are homologous with 

certain processes in the phylum, they are by no means 

identical with or even very similar to them. That is, 

the psychical development is himian from the beginning, 

just as the bodily is, though at the same time it is the 

human modifying the ever present and important animal 

factors. 

But how can psychical factors be inherited if there are 

no innate ideas? It can be only through the inheritance 

of certain organic structures which lead to 

definite reactions to certain kinds of stimuli Psychical 

inheritance 
and thus to certain psychical states. Perhaps 

the most universal instance is hunger, although it is 

also one of the most complex. The sensation of hunger 

depends upon the condition of the digestive tract as well 

as of the entire body, which sends stimuli to the central 

nervous system, giving as a result the sensation of hunger. 

Again, in little babies as well as in most adults, a loud 

noise calls out expressions of fear, and we infer thence to 

a fear state of consciousness; that is, psychical inheritance 

cannot be considered apart from physical inheritance. 

From similar bodily conditions we infer similar psychical 



14 T he Child 

states, and so, if certain bodily structures and functions 

are inherited, we can say fairly that their allied psychical 

states are also inherited. But here we must also keep 

in mind that just as instinctive acts do not occur until 

the proper stimulus sets them off, so it is with their 

allied psychical states; and just as some instincts do not 

ripen for months or years after birth, so it is with the 

psychical states corresponding. So here, too, the order 

in which given psychical states appear proves nothing as 

to whether they are inherited or acquired. 

A human being is therefore the most complex organism 

in the world. His body contains millions of cells and 

his nerv^ous system billions more, all of them 

Objective constantly changing in their relations to 
standpoint , ^-^ ,, ,i, i- 

each other and to the world about hnn, 

especially in the growing years of childhood. Their 
inner, psychical aspect can be no less complex and subtle 
and shifting, though we have as yet no psychical micro- 
scope to reveal the infinitesimal changes in the psyche 
which correspond to the slighter and simpler physical 
and nervous changes. Within ourselves we can observe 
only the coarser changes, in conscious processes, and in 
children and lower animals only changes in behavior, and 
we infer from them the psychical states within. The thing 
most to be desired in child study is careful observation 
and description of children in this objective way, for if 
we know how they act under given conditions we shall 
know how to get what results we want and have thus a 
scientific and objective basis for education in all its 
aspects. From the point of view of applied psychology, 
that is, behavior is the significant thing, and the mental 
state assumes importance only as an interpretation of 
behavior and so as being of assistance in controlling 
otherwise inexplicable changes in behavior. 



General Remarks 15 

We already have a large body of facts about children, 
partly accurate and partly inaccurate. Systematic child 
study should supplement and correct these by careful 
observation and description and thus give a firm basis 
for the science of education. 

In this study, two methods are possible, each of which 
may be pursued in two different ways: (i) We may 
study some individual child with great care 
and detail, or (2) we may collect statistics ^^/^°^f i*^ 
from large numbers of children. In both 
cases we may get our material simply from observing 
children, or experiment upon them by fixing certain 
conditions under which they shall act. 

(i) Individual study has the decided advantage of 
accuracy in details. We become intimately acquainted 
with some one child, and learn to see the various fine 
shadings of his mind. We discern the gradually increasing 
complexity of his mental processes. We can see the 
close connection between mind and body in many details, 
and trace to their origin numerous quaint ideas and 
marked characteristics. In this way we can learn to 
deal with this one child so that we shall make com- 
paratively few mistakes, even though our theoretical 
knowledge be not very wide. 

On the other hand, such a study fails us in many 
respects when we come to work with other children. 
We cannot be certain which of this child's traits are 
peculiar to him or his family and which are common 
to all children of his age, nor can we be sure just what 
importance to attach to certain traits. We cannot tell 
whether to ignore them because they will naturally be 
outgrown, or to repress them. 

(2) Group study aims to give just this sort of informa- 
tion. It collects data from large numbers of children of 



i6 The Child 

all ages, compares them, and finally is able to make a 
statement about certain characteristics of the great major- 
ity of children of each age. Such general statements, 
when based upon sufficient data, rest upon the same kind 
of foundation that the laws of any science do, and have 
the same authority. 

It is evident that such group study is strong where 
individual study is weak and, vice versa, is weak where 
individual study is strong. It lacks the detail and 
vividness of the individual study, but is more generally 
true and is likely to be a safer guide when difficulties come 
up in treating the average child whom we have not had 
the opportunity to study. The two methods should, 
therefore, supplement each other. Each parent or 
teacher should get a perspective for himself by a knowl- 
edge of the general facts of child nature, and then fill in 
details by a study of the Mary and Johnnie with whom 
he lives. 

This outline of child nature is what child study hopes 
to accomplish, but as yet the outline is fragmentary. 
More observations have been made on the 
^^"id^^t *d physical nature of the child than on any- 
thing else, but even here there is great 
divergence of opinion as to the meaning of the facts 
observed and as to their practical bearing. Good work 
has been done on small groups of children in observing 
most of the mental processes and some of the forms of 
expression. From this we may get hints for an educational 
theory, but it is valuable so far principally in giving 
suggestions for further observations. 

If, therefore, few conclusions are reached in the study 
given here, it must be remembered that this is inevitable 
under present conditions. It is easy to form a theory 
if we have studied only a few children, but the more data 



General Remarks 17 

we gather from large niimbers of children the more 
probable it seems that our present educational theories 
must be considerably enlarged and altered before they 
will be applicable to most children. 

The object of this book is not, therefore, so much to 
offer conclusions, as to outline what has been done, to 
show breaks in the outline, and to point out places for 
future work. 



CHAPTER II 

Growth of the Body 

ALL weighing should be done with the child nude, 
and all measuring without his shoes on. 

1. Beginning with birth, keep a record of the changes 
in weight and height. For the first month, weigh and 

measure the baby every week; thence, to 
Observa- ^j^g q^^ of ^j^g f^j-st year, every month; 
tions , ,, . / ^, 

thence, every three or six months. There 

is very little material at present on changes between the 
first and the sixth year, and any parents who will keep 
such a record carefully will help to fill one of the gaps 
in the subject of child study. 

2. If you do not undertake any systematic record, 
at least weigh and measure your children now and see 
how they compare with the average weight and height 
as shown in the tables. 

3. In some schools it is possible for a teacher to get 
statistics as to the height and weight of each child in 
her room. Where she cannot do so, she can usually get 
the height and weight of children who are peculiar, to 
see how they compare with the average height and 
weight as shown in the tables. 

4. In cases where children fall below the average, 
begin a little experimenting, if possible under a. physi- 
cian's advice, with their food and work. Keep a record of 
the changes you make in the food and the work, and of 
the effect upon the children. 

18 



Growth of the Body 



19 



As our knowledge of the mind increases we see more 
and more the close interrelation of mind and body, 
and we realize that in trying to understand jj^portance 
the condition of either at any time, we of the 
must take into consideration the effect of subject 
each upon the other. We have no right to expect the 




Diagram i. Showing the Relative Proportions of the Body in Child 
AND Adult. (Langer.) 

same mental work or the same moral standards from a 
child who is sick, or cold, or hungry, as from the one who 
is healthy, well fed, and well clad. The parent whose 
child is much below the average in growth or in the 



20 The Child 

control of his muscles, should be warned thereby to be on 
the watch for various mental or moral abnormalities. 
As there is no way of watching a child's mind except as 
he reveals it through his movements, it becomes of great 
importance that we should understand at least a little of 
what his movements signify. 

It is not uncommonly assumed that a child is simply 
a little man or woman. How untrue this is as to his 
body, a glance at Diagram i reveals. A 
Child versus child who grew to manhood preserving his 
childish proportions would be a monstros- 
ity. What is so evidently true of the body as a 
whole applies equally to details. The internal organs, 
the bones, blood, fat, marrow, and nerves all dififer so 
materially from the adult's that when similar chemical 
structures are found in him, they are considered path- 
ological. We cannot, therefore, believe that a child 
can eat the same food, breathe the same air, wear the 
same clothing, and take the same exercise as an adult, 
and obtain the highest degree of health. 

Considering first the increase in weight from birth to 
adolescence, observations upon hundreds of thousands of 
^ . , children show that at birth the average 

weight of a boy is 7.3 pounds; of a girl, 7.1 
pounds. The boys' weights vary from 3 pounds to 12 
pounds, but 87 per cent of them weigh between 6 and 9 
pounds. The weights of the girls come within the limits 
of 4 and II pounds, with 85 per cent between 6 and 9 
pounds. The limits of safety, then, for both boys and 
girls, seem to be 6 and 9 pounds. 

One of the most interesting characteristics of growth, 
both in height and weight, is its rapidly diminishing rate 
after as well as before birth. During the first three 
months of embryonic life it is estimated that the weight 



Growth of the Body 21 

increases 400,000,000 per cent; during the second three, 

5,182 per cent; during the last three, 252 per cent; while 

from birth to maturity the child will grow , 

° Lessening 

only about twenty-fold and during the first rate of 
year after birth only about three-fold. By growth 
the end of the first year the average boy weighs 21.9 
pounds and the average girl 21.3 pounds. KoplLk gives 
the following average rates of growth during the first 
year: from the second week to the fourth month, one 
ounce a day; from the fourth to the sixth month, one 
half to two thirds of an ounce a day; from the sixth to 
the twelfth, one half an ounce a day. At six months the 
child should weigh about twice what he did at birth. 

During the nursing period there is no one health index 
more important than that of increase in weight. If a 
baby begins to lose weight, or even remains station- 
ary, no effort should be spared to find the cause and to 
remedy it. 

In the registration area of the United States in 19 10 
the deaths of babies under one year constituted more 
than one sixth the total number of deaths — infant 
140,057 out of 732,538. As the registration mortality 
area is only 55 per cent of the total population, nearly 
twice this number of babies dies every year, and Irving 
Fisher estimates that 47 per cent of these deaths are from 
preventable causes. Thirty per cent, or nearly one third, 
are due to diarrheal diseases, and only 15 to 20 per cent 
to pneumonia and bronchitis. 

These digestive disturbances have various important 
causes. In breast-fed babies the mother's milk may not 
be sufficient in amount or may be lacking in 
food quaHties, so that it needs to be supple- 
mented by other food. In babies not breast-fed, the 
milk or food used may be indigestible for the baby; or 



22 The Child 

may be lacking in some of the necessary food qualities; 
or, still worse, it may be impure, so that the baby gets 
some bacterial disease. Numerous investigations show 
that breast-fed babies have a great advantage over those 
artificially fed. Their death rate is conservatively esti- 
mated to be only one fifth or one sixth as large as that 
of the artificially-fed babies; they are likely to weigh 
more, their general health is better, and their develop- 
ment is more likely to be normal. 

Chemistry shows us why this is so. Milk is not just 
milk. Its composition varies greatly even from one 
breed of cows to another, and still more widely from 
animals to man. With a healthy mother, the milk is 
perfectly adapted to the needs of the child, and not only 
this but its composition changes during the. months of 
the nursing period so that it supplies the different sub- 
stances needed for growth at different ages. Any arti- 
ficial substitute is almost inevitably lacking in some of 
these or else has them in excess, and the result is more 
or less defective nutrition or indigestion. 

Accordingly, we find physicians stressing more and 
more the great importance of a mother nursing her child 
as far as possible. Every three months that a baby gets 
the proper food increase its chances of life and health 
tremendously, and every possible means should be used 
to increase and prolong the natural supply. 

If artificial food is also needed, great care should be 
used both in selecting the food and in keeping it pure. 
In most cases a physician should be consiilted, and the 
baby shotdd be carefully watched and weighed in order 
to be sure that it is gaining the proper amount. Fortu- 
nately, iii many of our cities now there are milk stations 
where poor mothers may obtain pure milk either at cost 
or free, and may also get the services of a physician and 



Growth of the Body 



23 



nurse free. Such stations have done much to reduce the 
death toll of babies during the summer months and de- 
serve town or city support. 

We have very few records of increase in weight from 
one to six years. Hall states that during the second 
year the child should gain four or five pounds and by two 
and a half years weigh about one fifth the adult weight. 

By the sixth year, the average boy weighs 45.2 pounds; 
the average girl, 43.4 pounds. Thence to the seventeenth 
year, the following table shows the weights Average 

in pounds, with ordinary indoor clothing. weights 

Burk's Table Showing Average Weight of 68,000 American 
Children in Boston, St. Louis, and Milwaukee 



Age 



6>^ 
8)4 

io>^ 
iij^ 
12K 

14K 

i6l4 



Boys 



Average 
in lbs. 



45 
49 
54 
59 
65 
70 
76 
84 
95 
107 
121 



Annual 
increase 



4-3 
50 

51 
5-8 

5-3 
6.2 

7-9 
10.4 
12 .2 
13-6 



Per cent 
of 



Girls 



Average 
in lbs. 



106 
112 



Annual 
increase 



9.2 
10. 

9.6 
8.4 

5-6 



Per cent 

of 
increase 



9 9 
10.0 

9-3 
9.6 
10.5 
13.2 
12.7 
II. 9 

8.5 
5-2 



According to this table, for boys there is a fairly regular 
increase in weight up to ten and one half years; then a 
slightly retarded one to twelve and one half, and then 
the adolescent more rapid increase up to the end of the 
observed ages, sixteen and one half. The most rapid 
rate is put at fifteen and one half years by most observers. 
With girls the retardation period is very slight, and the 
adolescent acceleration runs from eleven and one half to 
fourteen and one half with the greatest height at twelve 



24 



The Child 



and one half. In general girls weigh slightly less than 
boys of the same age, but from twelve and one half to 
fourteen and one half slightly more. 

After the sixteenth year measurements on college 
students show a progressive diminution in the rate of 
growth, though there is some increase at least up to 
twenty-five years. College students, however, are a 
picked class, and probably their gro^vth is greater, both 
absolutely and relatively, than that of the general pop- 
ulation. 

The average newborn boy measures 19.68 inches, with 
the extreme limits at 15 and 24 inches; the newborn girl 
19.48 inches, with the limits at 16 and 23 
^^^ inches. The most rapid growth in height, 

as in weight, is in the first months of life. In the first 
month, a child adds something like 2}4 inches to his 
length and by the end of the first year has increased from 
7 to 8 inches. At the time of the first dentition Camerer 
observed a lessening of the rate of growth. At the age of 
six years, the average boy measures 44.10 inches, the 
average girl, 43.66 inches. Thence to the seventeenth 
year, their average heights in inches are shown in the 
following table. ^ 



Years 


6 


7 


8 


9 


10 


II 


12 


13 


14 


15 


16 


1 ; 


Boys . . 
Girls . , 


44.10 
43.60 


46.21 

45-94 


48. lO 
48.07 


50.0.;, 

40.61 


52.21 
51-78 


54-01 
53-79 


55-78 
57-16 


58-17 

58-75 


61.08 
60.32 


62.96 
61.39 


65-58 
61.72 


66.29 
61.99 



iThese measurements were taken without shoes. As only 
American children are included in them, the measures are slightly 
larger than the average. The American-born child is slightly 
taller and heavier than the English, Irish. German, or Scandinavian 
child. No comparative measurements exist for other nationalities. 
We should also note here that the periods of most rapid increase, 
both in height and in weight, are put from one to two years earlier 
by some writers. Doubtless food, nationality, and climate influence 
this. This table is taken from Bowditch. 



Groiuth of the Body 25 

There is probably a slight increase in height up to 
twenty-five years, but there have been relatively few 
measurements after the seventeenth year. 

Here again we note a rhythm of much the same nature 
as that of the increase in weight. The boys, as a rule, 
are taller than the girls except between the ages of thirteen 
and fourteen. Their periods of growth are more sharply 
defined, and individuals differ from each other within 
wider limits. The differences between individuals also 
increase with age. It is sometimes said that up to adoles- 
cence a child lives the race life; at adolescence there is 
a strong development of family traits, and thereafter the 
child becomes more individual. 

The most marked fluctuations in growth occur between 

the years of six and nine for both boys and girls, and 

again between eleven and thirteen for girls, „. ,, 
^ b ' Rhythms 

and fourteen and sixteen for boys. The of growth 

first period is closely connected with the ^"^ ^^^^'^ 

• r 1 1 -, -,-■,■, changes 

gettmg of the second teeth, and with the 

fact that at this time the brain is rapidly developing 
fibers of connection between its various parts. On ac- 
count of this brain growth, there is usually a marked 
mental change in each child. He has more interests, he 
plays more kinds of games, and he has a wider range of 
friends than before. The second change is the accom- 
paniment of puberty and will be considered later. 

It is most interesting to notice that, taking into con- 
sideration all the observations made, periods of rapid 
growth in height precede periods of rapid Relations 
growth in weight, although this is not between 
so marked with girls as with boys. This hdrfit and 
is true not only of the larger periods in weight 
of which we have spoken, but of shorter periods 
as well. 



26 The Child 

R. Malling-Hansen of Copenhagen made observations 
upon one hundred and thirty boys from seven to fifteen 
„, years of age, for a period of two years, to 

rhythms find out what rhythms of growth occur with- 

of growth ^^ ^j^g cycle of the year. He found these 
well marked both in height and in weight. The period of 
most rapid growth in weight is from August to Decem- 
ber; of average growth, from December to the end of 
April, and of least growth from April to August. Con- 
versely, the greatest increase in height is from April to 
August, and the least from August to December. 

Within each month he observed rhythmical alterna- 
tions, a period of growth of perhaps fifteen days alter- 
nating with one of comparative rest. He also found a 
similar rhythm within the week, and noticed that during 
the day children increase in weight and decrease in height, 
while during the night the converse is true. Heat and 
light seem to accelerate increase in weight. Camerer 
corroborates Malling-Hansen in most of his observa- 
tions; and Vierordt and Fleischmann also corroborate the 
weekly rhythms. 

None of these observers has dealt with large numbers 
of children, and therefore we need further data before 
we can be sure that these rhythms are universal ; but the 
various observers agree as far as they have gone, and 
there seems to be no good reason a priori why the facts 
should not be generally true. 

When we consider the growth of the various organs of 
the body, and of the skeleton, muscles, and nervous sys- 
tem, the most striking fact is that it is irregu- 
different° 1^^- ^^ ^^y given time, certain parts will 
parts of the be developing rapidly, and others slowly. 
° ^ The details of this growth are much too 

complex to be given here, and their meaning is not yet 



Growth of the Body 



27 



understood. It need only be stated that at adolescence 
the heart and lungs, as well as the reproductive organs, 
are growing very rapidly, and that between seven and nine 
the brain is developing numerous fibers of connection, 
although it is increasing little if any in size. 

Vierordt's Table, Showing the Relative Growth of Various 
Parts of the Body, Counting Size at Birth as 100. 

Adult 



Length of head 

Upper part of head 

Length of face 

From chin to upper end of breastbone . 

Breastbone 

Abdomen 

Leg. 



Height of foot . 
Upper arm . . . . 
Forearm 



Birth 


End of 

21 MOS. 


7i 
Yrs. 


100 


150 


191-7 


100 


114 


150 


100 


200 


250 


100 


500 


700 


100 


186 


300 


100 


160 


240 


100 


200 


455 


100 


150 


300 


100 


i«3 


328 


100 


182 


322 



200 

157 

260 
900 

314 

260 

472 
450 
350 
350 



Relation of 
size to food 



It goes without saying that a child that is well fed 
will be taller and heavier than he would be if he went 
hungry, but there is another and erroneous 
idea connected with this. We often assume 
that any well-fed child will be taller and 
heavier than one poorly fed. This is not so. Size de- 
pends not only upon good nutrition but also upon nation- 
ality, climate, and family. There seems to be a certain 
size for each individual, which his body will strive des- 
perately to reach even under the most unfavorable con- 
ditions, but which it is not likely to exceed under any 
circtmistances. In this struggle, disease or insufficient 
food before the age of six has the most permanently bad 
effects. After that time, any drawbacks will retard 
growth temporarily, but will be followed by an unusually 
rapid growth. A child who has had good health up to 
the sixth year has an excellent start in life. 

Bowditch's Tenth Report seems to show conclusively 



28 The Child 

that children of the poorer classes are lighter and shorter 
than those of the well-to-do, though the differences are 
small. All observers find that the professional classes 
are, at any given age, taller and heavier than the labor- 
ing classes. This is true in England, Germany, Denmark 
and Sweden. 

The rate of growth, however, does not seem to be 
markedly different; that is, the poor child grows as 
rapidly as the rich, but is shorter and lighter to begin 
with. This seems to indicate that the embryonic and 
early conditions of nutrition are the most important for 
absolute weights and heights. 

Exactly what importance should be assigned in growth 
to food, race, and climate is still unsettled. Americans 
are taller and heavier than other nationalities, but this 
is not due exclusively to race, for an Irish- American or 
German-American recruit is taller and heavier than his 
brother in the old country. Food and climate evidently 
have considerable influence here. 

It is significant that idiots and imbeciles are usually 

shorter and lighter than normal persons; but on the 

_ , ^. , other hand, we must not forget that men of 
Relation of ' ^ 

size to men- talent, if not of genius, are not infrequently 
tal ability small. We cannot maintain that men below 
a given height and weight are stupid, any more than we 
can hold that size has no relation whatever to mental 
ability. The case should probably be stated thus: Any 
child who falls much below the size of other members of 
his family at the same age, is also likely to fall below them 
in intelligence. A more direct relation between mind 
and body is given in bodily control, which we shall con- 
sider later. 

In view of the well-marked rhythms of growth, the ques- 
tion at once arises as to their bearing upon education. 



Growth of the Body 



29 



Should the child, while growing rapidly, have more or 
less school work? Should we stimulate him or quiet 
him? The most diverse answers have been pej-ods * 
given to these questions. The chief con- growth and 
flict has raged about the proper treatment education 
of the adolescent boy and girl. We find some physicians 
declaring that girls from twelve to fourteen years old 
should be taken out of school entirely, and boys from 
fourteen to sixteen years old given much less mental 
work to do. Many educators, on the other hand, claim 
that this is the tirne when permanent interests in all 
subjects must be established. The child now lives in a 
new world — one of ideals — and we must introduce him 
as speedily as may be to the best in literature, history, 
science, art, music, religion, and everything that goes to 
make up our complex life. 

We may perhaps untangle a few of the threads from 
this knotted skein by comparing the periods of greatest 
susceptibility to disease with those of adoles- ~. . . , 
cence. Dr. E. M. Hartwell of Boston has age to 
made tables based on the mortality returns disease 
of Boston for 1875, 1885, and 1890. He finds that 
specific life-intensity, that is, ability to resist disease, 
varies as follows: 



Age 



Per cent of 
increase 
in weight 



Girls 



Boys 



Specific life 
intensity 



Girls 



Boys 



Per CENT of 

INCREASE 
IN HEIGHT 



Girls 



Boys 



5- 6. 

6- 7. 

7- 8. 
8-9. 
9-10 . 

lO-II . 

11-12 . 
12-13. 
13-14- 
14-15- 
15-16. 

3 



.00 
.08 
•58 
.72 
.98 
.06 
-56 
.08 
.11 
.90 
■77 



5.20 
4-58 
4-38 
4-03 
4.04 
3.12 
3-39 
3-78 
4.68 
4.01 
4-36 



60.08 

69 5 
103.8 
123 

195 
191 

309 
232 
162.0 
171-3 
169 3 



67-3 
74-5 
106.8 
164.0 
134-8 
209.3 

233-2 

290. 1 

238.7 
250.1 
188. 1 



9.69 

8.83 

10.68 

9.26 
10.24 

13-78 
13-23 
10.94 

7-83 
5-61 



10.24 

8.78 
9.86 

9-79 
10.40 

7-43 
9 74 
10.31 
11.66 
13.02 
12 .96 



30 The Child 

According to this table, girls from eleven to twelve 
years old and boys from twelve to thirteen years old are 
better able to resist disease than at any previous time, 
although the increase in power of resistance is not so 
marked with boys as with girls. The entire period from 
nine to thirteen for girls and from ten to fifteen for boys 
is the time of greatest resistance to disease, while the 
period after thirteen for girls and fifteen for boys is one 
of less power of resistance than the years immediately 
preceding. To state it in other terms, the period im- 
mediately preceding adolescence is the healthiest time of 
life; while adolescence itself falls short of this period but 
exceeds the period before the ninth year. 

Other statistics, on the other hand, seem to indicate 
that the maximum resistance to disease comes some- 
what later, when the boy or girl has practically finished 
growing in height and is making great gains in weight. 
This would seem to argue that the adolescent can endure 
a reasonable amount of work without harm. We need, 
however, more statistics which shall correlate all the 
factors of growth in the same children over a period 
of years before we can safely draw conclusions. 

Throughout this account we have given only averages, 
and have constantly used such terms as "between certain 
Physiological ages" or "at about this age," in order to 
age indicate that while the order of growth is 

the same in all children, any particular child may be 
more or less advanced than the average child of that age. 
C. W. Crampton has made this difference between what 
he calls the physiological and the chronological age the 
subject of especial study. We know, for instance, that 
the age for attainment of puberty may vary by as much 
as five years, and in very exceptional cases even more, 
so that some boys and girls of twelve are in various 



Growth of the Body 31 

respects as old as others of fourteen and sixteen. To 
put such precocious children with those of the same 
chronological age in their play interests is, Crampton 
believes, a great mistake and works harm both to the 
normal and the precocious children. Similarly, to force 
a slowly developing boy or girl to keep up with those 
who have developed more rapidly may do pemianent 
and serious injury. The true standard, therefore, is not 
the number of years since birth, but the degree of devel- 
opment already attained, and while there are means and 
averages for the maturity of each part of the body, those 
responsible for a given child should know also in what 
respects he deviates from the mean, and should vary 
his training accordingly. 

In conclusion: In the newborn child all the elements 
of the future man are present in germ, but education 
decides which factors are to grow and 
which are to atrophy. In the first years 
of life growth of all parts of the body is far more rapid 
than at any other time, and educational, that is, en- 
vironmental, influences are most potent. There are at 
least two well-marked periods of growth in height and in 
weight with both boys and girls, of which the first is con- 
nected with the second dentition and the second with the 
setting in of puberty. Increase in height precedes in- 
crease in weight, and increase in weight is accompanied' 
by increased resistance to disease, and is probably the 
time when mental work can be done to the best advan- 
tage. Size and mental ability have, not a direct, but an 
indirect, relation to each other, varying with the family, 
climate, and food. Any given child must be studied not 
only in comparison with other children of the same age, 
but also in comparison especially with others of his own 
family. We need not only general laws for all children, 



32 The Child 

but also for children of this or that family, just as we 
have laws for species of flowers in addition to those for 
the genera. 

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Porter, W. S. Physical Basis of Precocity and Dullness. Trans. 

Am. Acad. Scat St. Louis, Vol. VI, 161-181. Also Am.Phys. 

Ed. Rev., Vol. II, 155-173, same article. 
Growth of St. Louis Children, 263-380. 
Posse, Nils. Special Kinesiology oj Educational Gymnastics. Lee, 

Boston. $3.00. 
Radosavljevich, P. R., Prof. Boas's New Theory of Form of Head. 

Am. Anthrop. 191 1, 394-436. 
Roberts, C. Manual oj Anthropometry. Churchill, London. $1.50. 
Rowe, S. H. Physical Nature oj the Child and How to Study It. 

Macmillan, N. Y. $1.00. 211 pp. 
Scripture, E. W. Education of Muscular Control and Power. 

Studies jrom Yale Psy. Lab., II. 
Seguin, E. Prenatal and Infantile Culture. Pop. Sc. Mo., Vol. X, 

38-43- 

Shaw, E. R. Observations on Teaching Children to Write. 
C. S. M., Vol. I, 226. 

Smedley, F. W. Report on Child-Study Investigation. Chicago 
Board of Education. 

Telford-Smith, T. Scientific Study of Mental and Physical Con- 
ditions of Childhood. Pediatrics, 1897, 317-321. 

Thorndike, E. L. Empirical Studies on Theory of Measurement, 
N. Y., 1907, 45 pp. Col. Univ. Cont. XV, No. 3. 
Theory oj Mental and Social Measurements, 1904, 212 pp. 

Tucker, M. A. Involuntary Movements. Am. Jour. Psy., Vol. 
VIII, 394- 

Warner, Francis. Physical and Mental Condition Among Fifty 
Thousand Children. Jour. Roy. Stat. Soc, 1896, 125-128. 
(The basis of most other work of this sort.) Sum. in Rept. 
Com. oj Ed., 1895-6, 1 175. 
Study oj Children and Nervous System oj the Child. Mac- 
millan, N. Y. Each, $1.00. (Both works cover much the 
same ground; very difTuse.) 

Wissler, Clark. Correlation of Mental and Physical Tests. Psy. 
Rev., Monog. Sup., Vol. Ill, No. 6. 
Growth of Boys. Am. Anthrop., N. S., 1903, 81-88. 



CHAPTER III 
Common Diseases and Defects 

SINCE the connection between the sound mind and 
the sound body is as close as the last chapters have 
shown, it is of great importance for all who have charge 
Prevention ^^ children to know some of the more common 
of disease symptoms of disease. Examinations, made 
in recent years, of the eyes and ears of school children 
show that to a most appalling degree parents and teachers 
have considered children stupid, obstinate, and bad who 
are only partially deaf or blind. In the minds of phy- 
sicians there can be little doubt that many other cases of 
supposed innate wickedness or laziness are in reality 
cases of some form of nervous derangement. 

What we shall do, therefore, in this chapter is to de- 
scribe some of the symptoms which should put parents 
on their guard and set them to watching the child in 
question more carefully, with a view to consulting with a 
physician should the doubtful symptoms persist. It 
should be well understood that such observations as the 
parent and teacher can make are only preliminary to the 
physician's examination, and that it is unsafe for a tyro 
to adopt on his own responsibility any course of treatment. 
The object is not to get rid of the physician, but to save 
children from the suffering due to the neglect of un- 
healthy conditions which arise from our inability to know 
when they exist. We wish to sharpen our eyes to see 
wrong conditions so that they may be more speedily re- 
lieved. It is unquestionable that a very large percentage 

36 



Common Diseases and Defects 37 

both of deaths and attacks of disease could be pre- 
vented, and Irving Fisher goes so far as to say that 67 
per cent of the children who die between the second and 
eighth years could be saved. In most cases we know 
both the cause and the remedy for the disease, but usually 
we do not discover the disease until it has obtained too 
much headway, and the resisting powers of the child are 
exhausted. It is of the utmost importance, therefore, 
that parents and teachers should know the danger signals, 
especially of acute and serious disease, so that the child 
may be promptly put into the hands of a competent 
physician. 

We have already noted that in the first year of life 
gastro-intestinal diseases cause nearly one third of the 
mortaHty, and can be largely prevented by oastro- 
care in the choice and preparation of the intestinal 
baby's milk. If, however, there is an acute disease 
attack, it often begins with nausea and vomiting, usually 
with diarrhea and fever, and often with acute pain in 
the abdomen. Until a doctor can be obtained the safest 
treatment is to stop giving food and to give a cathartic, 
while a warm bath will often aid in relieving the pain and 
stimulating the nervous system. 

Certain chronic diseases like rachitis and scorbutus are 
due to defective feeding, and while they may become very 
serious if neglected, they are easily cured by getting the 
proper food. 

Another disease that is especially serious during the 
first year of life is broncho-pneumonia. It usually at- 
tacks those of low vitality and its symptoms 
are doubtful. Usually there is at first a slight ?[s°e"a*^s^s' 
bronchitis, followed after a few days by sud- 
den chill and fever, with perhaps vomiting and cough- 
ing. Other diseases of the respiratory tract are very 



38 T he Ch i I d 

common, especially before the tenth year, and tubercu- 
losis is more common among children than was fomierly 
supposed. The best preventives of all such diseases are 
good food and fresh air. 

Acute infectious diseases assume a special significance 
at the kindergarten age and thereafter on account of the 
ease with which they may be spread. We will therefore 
take them up in more detail, but must preface this 
account by certain general statements. 

In the first place, the early sjntnptoms of a disease 
may be somewhat differently described by different au- 
y . . thorities, and an epidemic of a given disease 

in symptoms in a certain year may have a character- 
of disease ^g^-^^, severity or lightness. The causes of 
such variations are obscure, but must depend somewhat 
upon the differences in the strength and constitution 
of individual children, and in part upon climatic 
and other environmental conditions. Again, various 
diseases resemble each other in their early stages, showing 
certain common symptoms, and are sometimes hard to 
distinguish even by physicians. Teachers and parents 
should not therefore expect rigidly accurate descriptions, 
nor try to make a diagnosis for a specific disease. The 
important thing is that a child showing symptoms which 
may develop into an infectious disease or a serious attack 
of sickness shall not be neglected, but shall be carefully 
watched and promptly separated from other children if 
the symptoms seem to point to an infectious disease. 

It must also be said that statements as to the period of 
incubation and of infection of infectious diseases vary 
considerably, as will be indicated below. This introduces 
uncertainty into the methods of preventing an epidemic, 
so that we find much variation. But since the control 
of this matter is not in the hands either of teachers or 



C m m on Diseases and Dejects 39 

parents, but of local boards of health, it falls somewhat 
outside our discussion. The statements as to mortality 
rates and age of greatest mortality and morbidity vary 
somewhat also in different countries and different sec- 
tions of one country. 

The least dangerous of the acute infectious diseases 
are German measles, chicken pox, and mumps. Gennan 
measles usually seem to appear suddenly, 
with rash breaking out, a little sore throat measles 
and fever, and perhaps inflamed eyes. Both chicken pox, 
the illness and its after effects are usually 
slight. The disease is spread by the discharges from 
nose and mouth. 

Chicken pox usually has little or no fever and only a 
slight rash, appearing as small pimples wliich fill with a 
clear liquid and gradually dry up. Mumps also seem to 
begin suddenly, with vomiting, fever, and pain about the 
angle of the jaw. The glands become swollen and very 
tender. The disease rarely leaves serious effects, but is 
quite infectious, probably through discharges from nose 
and mouth. 

Whooping cough is much more serious. Koplik gives 
the mortality rate from it as 25 per cent during the first 
year; 5 per cent from the first to the fifth, Whooping 
and but i per cent between the fifth and cough 
tenth years. It rarely occurs after ten years, and is 
most frequent in the first year. The period of incuba- 
tion is variously stated as from two to fourteen days. 
It usually begins like a cold in the head, with sore throat, 
and is worse at night. Instead of improving in a few 
days, it gets worse, the whoop appears, and the spasm of 
coughing may end in vomiting. The discharges carry 
the infection. 

Measles rarely occur in the first year, and are most 



40 T he C hi Id 

common between the first and fifth years. The period 
of incubation, from the time of exposure to the appear- 
ance of symptoms, is from ten to fifteen days. 
At first there may be only sHght lassitude 
and headache, and a little pinkness of the eyes, but very 
little or no fever. If the mouth is examined at this 
time, the soft and hard palates and cheeks may show 
irregular rose-colored streaks or spots, some of them 
with whitish centers. Two or three days later nasal 
catarrh, conjunctivitis and a cough appear, with a little 
fever, and the eruption soon appears, beginning usually 
on the face and head. It is supposed that measles are 
most infectious during the catarrh and eruption, but may 
also be given during the desquamation. The average 
mortality rate from them is about 8 per cent, largest in 
the first year of life, and less after the fifth year. 

Scarlet fever is highly infectious and dangerous. Some 
authorities state that of persons below twenty years of 
age exposed to this disease, 56 per cent take 
Scarlet j^_ j^ j^g^y y^Q carried in clothing, on hands, 

from the skin, secretions, or excretions of 
the patient, and it is known that the germs live a long 
time folded in clothing and hidden in rooms. The in- 
fection may be given during incubation, eruption, and 
desquamation, that is, through the whole period of the 
disease. The period of incubation is not definitely known. 
Some German authorities state it as eight to ten days, 
some English as three to six. There are occasional cases 
of thirty days. The symptoms are also variable. There 
may at first be a a slight sore throat, especially if the 
child has a sensitive throat. A sudden rise of tempera- 
ture may follow and then an attack of vomiting. From 
twelve to thirty six hours later the rash usually appears, 
first on the upper chest. 



Common Diseases and Defects 41 

Diphtheria is also highly dangerous and infectious. 
It is most common between the ages of two and six, and 
is carried by discharges, on the hands, or by t^- ^ 1, • 
the clothing. The period of incubation is 
from two to eight days, but the average is three. The 
usual symptoms are sore throat, lassitude, pains in the 
joints, back, and head, but there may be very little 
fever. The throat usually shows the characteristic white 
patches, but in some cases these do not appear, and yet 
such cases are as infectious as any others. 

Influenza is highly contagious and the after effects may 
be serious, but it is rarely fatal. It is most frequent in 
children before the fifth year, and is spread 
in the discharges from nose and throat. The 
period of incubation varies from twelve hours to three 
daj^s. The first symptoms are usually a chill, which may 
be followed by vomiting, then some fever and pain in the 
head and limbs. Usually there is a cold in the head and 
cough, the eyes, throat, and tonsils are inflamed, and the 
face is flushed. 

The eyes are subject to certain contagions which may 
lead to blindness or at least to pain in the use of the eyes. 
If there be discharges from the eyes, whether 
thin or thick, noticeable inflammation of eye- gye ear 
balls or eyelids, and sensitiveness to light, a and skin 
child should be at once examined by a phy- 
sician. Eye diseases in school are easily spread by the 
common towel, borrowed handkerchiefs, and in similar 
ways. 

Certain skin diseases, such as itch, are similarly spread, 
and any child who scratches himself persistently should 
be examined carefully. Itch, not to mention lice, 
cannot always be detected unless there is a careful ex- 
amination. 



42 The Child 

Discharge from the nose, especially if it is thick and 
creamy, breathing through the mouth, enlarged tonsils 
or neck glands, should all be referred to 
the physician for examination. Breathing 
through the mouth, if habitual, is a common symptom of 
adenoid growths. These are most frequent between 
the ages of six and ten years, and are found in many 
children, some investigators putting the per- cent as high 
as 25. The obstruction to breathing and the diminution 
in the oxygen obtained leads to lassitude and general 
mental slowness, so that the child is greatly hampered. 
The removal is a very simple process and usually entirely 
effective. 

Defective teeth have also assumed great importance of 
late. We are just beginning to realize that with proper 
care a man's teeth will last his entire lifetime, 
®® — assuming that his general health and 

especially his digestion are good. On the other hand, 
dental examinations of school children show that from 
two thirds to four fifths of them have one or more decay- 
ing teeth, and school records show that a considerable 
per cent stay out of school several days a year on account 
of toothache. Parents very commonly do not care for 
the first teeth of their children, believing that as they 
soon drop out it does no harm to let them decay. Quite 
the contrary is true, however, for quite apart from the 
child's suffering from toothache, if the first teeth are 
imperfect and the gums unhealthy, or if the first teeth 
are pulled before the second are ready to come through, 
the second set is likely to be defective or misplaced. 

Again, during the second dentition especial care should 
be taken to see that the first teeth do not prevent the 
second from coming in evenly. During this period the 
difficulty that the child has in chewing his food properly 



Common Diseases and Defects 43 

is likely to lead to imperfect digestion and may interfere 
with his school work. Pronunciation is also affected, 
and this may react to his discredit in reading and reciting. 
The preventive measures — which are being widely in- 
corporated in school hygiene — are to teach the children 
the importance of brushing the teeth regularly and thor- 
oughly, and to show them how to do it, as well as to 
emphasize the importance of prompt care of a decaying 
tooth. 

We can only refer here to the numerous problems con- 
nected with sanitary schoolrooms and houses, such as the 
choice of a site, architecture;, size and lighting 

of rooms, best methods of cleaning, colors for ^^"5^5^ 

'^ sanitation 

walls and ceiling, sanitary blackboards and 
erasers, fire escapes, plumbing and closets, and so on. 
These are discussed in detail in the standard texts on 
school sanitation and hygiene, to which references are 
given at the end of the chapter. 

Again, we cannot discuss the problems connected with 
the physical care and the feeding of children, which are 
fundamental to health and morality, but must be content 
to refer to some of the standard texts. 

Medical inspection in schools also can only be referred 

to here. The value of medical examination for all 

children has been abundantly demonstrated 

T^Bclicdl 
by what it has accomplished, although in inspection 

many places the physicians are poorly paid and school 

and they handle such large numbers of 

children that they cannot give a thorough examination. 

The recommendations of the physician can, however, be 

made far more effective if there is some one connected 

with the school who follows up the children to see that 

the parents remedy the indicated defects as far as possible. 

In most cases this person should be a nurse who goes to 



44 



T k e Child 



the child's home and talks with the mother, explaining 
the physician's directions and ascertaining whether or 
not the parents can pay for glasses, dental service, or 
whatever it may be. 

The principal objection made to school doctors and 
nurses is on the score of expense, but from a broad view- 
point they save money to the community, both in pre- 
venting disease and increasing effectiveness, and in 
keeping each child in school more regularly so that the 
school plant is more fully used. 

There are, however, some conditions over which the 
teachers can usually exercise some control, which are also 
very closely and fundamentally connected with the 
amount and quality of the mental work done by the 
children, and wliich soon react upon their nervous con- 
dition. 

The first of these is bad air, both at home and at school. 
Why is it that the American, even the well-educated 
American, is so insensitive to the need of 
pure air? Is it because he breathes badly 
and has his sense of smell dulled by catarrh? There 
must be some other explanation than that of ignorance, 
for the air even of most homes is not pure, and it is rare 
indeed to go into a schoolroom where the air is not impure. 
Many a sensible, well-educated man and woman goes to 
bed night after night with closed doors and windows, and 
many a housekeeper, exemplary in other respects, never 
feels the need of throwing the house open to the air and 
sun. 

The simplest test for pure air is that the air in a room 
shall smell fresh upon coming in from outdoors. Even 
in winter time this is easy to secure. Have boards about 
four inches wide fitted into the bottom of the window 
casings, and let the windows rest on them instead of 



Common Diseases and Defects 45 

closing down. This secures a current of air at the top, 
between the two sashes, and ventilates an ordinary living 
or sleeping room. There is usually no reason why a 
window should not be open in a bedroom at night, even 
in the coldest weather; but if that demands too much 
courage, at least the door can be open and a window in 
some other part of the house opened to lead to a circu- 
lation of the air. 

In the schoolroom there is usually an inadequate systern 
of ventilation. Architects do not consider, in their es- 
timate of the necessary supply of air, the amount that is 
befouled by the bodies and clothes of the pupils. They 
consider only the nice, clean, healthy child, who is, in the 
city at any rate, the exception. As a result, the air in 
most schools is heavy from the first half hour after school 
opens to the end of the day. Then the janitor locks in 
the bad air to be used again the next morning. 

Supplement this defective ventilation by opening 
windows at every recess and noon, and see to it that the 
room is thoroughly aired at night. If the room is made 
too cold for the pupils by this constant airing, warm them 
by some vigorous gymnastics, and particularly by breath- 
ing exercises. The fresh, invigorating oxygen will soon 
reconcile them to the slightly lowered temperature. 

The great importance of the air supply lies in the fact 
that air that has once been breathed is deficient in oxygen, 
which is one of the most important constituents in build- 
ing up nervous and muscular tissue. A person who 
breathes impure air five or six hours a day soon feels dull 
all the time. He cannot think clearly or rapidly because 
the brain centers are not properly fed, and his stupidity 
may become permanent. His resistance to disease is 
lessened, and he is subject to headaches and numerous 
minor evils. 



46 The Child 

The unsuspected value of fresh air has been demon- 
strated in the most striking fashion within the last ten 
years in the open-air and open-window 

Open-air schools. Perhaps the best example of this 
schools . . , , ^1 , , 

IS the open-air school at Charlottenburg, a 

suburb of Berlin, Gennany. Here sickly children 
spend the day, from eight to six o'clock out of doors, 
with food and baths supplied, and with only about half 
the usual number of hours spent in formal school work. 
Nevertheless they do in this time the full amount done 
by children in the regular school routine. Similar re- 
sults have been obtained in other schools, even when 
little or no food is given the children and the sole differ- 
ence is in the amount of fresh air obtained. 

The arrangements to protect children from unseasonable 
weather and from cold vary widely. In some instances 
the school is on the roof, a part of which is provided with 
a tent or a pavilion where the desks and school apparatus 
can be put. For cold weather, bags are provided for the 
children to use when sitting. In other cases an old 
building is modified by either taking out one outside 
wall of each room entirely, or by putting in a wide sur- 
face of windows which may be closed in bad weather. 
It is claimed that in such rooms, with a proper arrange- 
ment of the program, children will be comfortable at a 
temperature of about 45° F. and will be almost entirely 
free from the nose and throat troubles which afflict other 
children in closed rooms in the same building. 

The most important thing to secure comfort is that 
vigorous physical exercise shall alternate with work at 
the desks, and the statement is made that as a rule after 
twenty minutes of play or exercise a child can sit con- 
fortably for forty minutes, and do the work usually done 
in an hour. 



Common Diseases and Defects 47 

Whether or not individual parents or teachers are in- 
clined to try the open-air living and sleeping the year 
round, they can at least practice and teach deep breathing 
and the proper use of the lungs, and gradually accustom 
the children and the community to lower temperatures 
and better air in our dwelHngs. 

The humidity in the air has of late been receiving 
much attention on account of its relation both to temper- 
ature and to throat and nose affections. The 
normal humidity is between 50 and 60 per 
cent of saturation. If it be much greater it becomes very 
oppressive, while if much less, the skin and membranes 
of the nose and mouth which are exposed to the air be- 
come too dry, and the person takes cold more easily and 
is more likely to be nervous. One of the great advantages 
of the open-air schools is that the normal humidity is 
secured. As soon as windows are shut and artificial 
heating is introduced it becomes difficult to secure enough 
humidity. When air is heated it is also dried, and so 
rather often the humidity of our dwellings and schools 
goes as low as 30 per cent, and in cold weather, when all 
the windows are shut tight and the boilers are working at 
their limits, even as low as 10 or 15 per cent. Now, as 
the humidity diminishes, more heat is needed, and so 
we get the conditions so common of persons demanding 
a temperature of 75° F. or even more in order to be 
comfortable. 

The obvious way to remedy this, and perhaps also the 
best, is that already suggested of opening all the windows 
wide for ten or fifteen minutes every two or three hours. 
In temperate latitudes outdoor air usually has sufficient 
humidity. If the teacher is so unfortunate as to be in a 
large building with an elaborate system of artificial ven- 
tilation, under which she is forbidden to open windows, 



48 The Child 

she can do little. The dish of water sometimes put on 
the heater evaporates so little that it is of little use. 
Some of the most recent ventilating systems also humidify 
the air introduced, but many do not. 

The standards generally agreed upon for the air in a 
dwelling room are, as already said, from 50 to 60 per 
cent of humidity and a temperature of 65° to 70° 
F. . with the preference for the lower temperature. The 
standard for purity or even what impurity it is that 
is injurious is just now the subject of much discussion. 
The rough and ready tests already referred to, of whether 
the air is offensive to a person coming in from outdoors, 
and whether those staying in the room become sleepy 
and tired, in the absence of the knowledge and apparatus 
necessary for testing purity, can be relied on under 
ordinary conditions. But instead of the ordinary ther- 
mometer, a wet- and dry-bulb thermometer should be put 
into every schoolroom so that the teacher can know the 
humidity as well as the temperature. 

Habitual postures are now recognized as the cause of 

much fatigue and even of actual disease, particularly of 

various forms of curvature of the spine. 

Twenty to thirty per cent of high-school 

children have curvatures of the spine as the result of 

improperly made seats. 

The most healthy posture in standing and sitting is, 
presumably, the symmetrical one, in which both halves 
of the body have the same position, because then the 
muscles on the two sides will be used alike, and all strain 
will be equally distributed. Variations from such a 
position should be compensated by the two sides alter- 
nating in the unsirmmetrical position. 

The best position in lying is still a matter of dispute. 
Some maintain that the symmetrical position here also 



Common Diseases and Defects 49 

is the best, the person lying either on back or abdomen. 
Others claim that lying on the back keeps the spinal 
cord unduly heated and irritable, while lying on the 
abdomen compresses both stomach and lungs. They 
therefore advocate a position on either the right or left 
side. The truth of the case probably is that the best 
position for each individual will depend somewhat upon 
his bodily characteristics. There can be no question, 
however, but that lying on the back or abdomen allows 
the most complete muscular relaxation, and it seems 
doubtful whether there is any real harm done to spinal 
cord, or stomach, or lungs, provided they were in good 
condition at the start. 

Practically all physicians agree that in order to be 
both comfortably and correctly seated, there must be 
certain relations between the size and shape of the seat 
and the person. The height of the seat should be the 
same as the length of the leg, measured from the under 
side of the knee bent at right angles, to the sole ; the depth 
from front to back of the seat should be only enough so 
that the entire back can rest against it, and the seat-back 
should follow the curves of the spine. If the seat is too 
high, there is constant strain in the attempt to keep the 
feet on the floor, and a strong tendency to slip forward in 
the chair and sit on the end of the spine. This alone 
may lead to tenderness of the spinal cord and consequent 
nervousness. If the seat is too long from front to back, 
the same thing occurs. 

The desk should be of such a height that when the 
elbow rests at the side, bent at right angles, it can lie on 
top of the desk. The desk should slope one inch in six, 
and should overlap the seat by at least two inches. If 
the desk is higher than this, it raises the elbow and brings 
a needless strain upon the back muscles. If it is too far 



50 The Child 

in front of the seat, the child is obliged to perch on the 
seat-edge in order to write, and all the back muscles are 
strained. He should be able to write while leaning back 
in the chair. 

These requirements are the same for both children and 
adults, but are of especial importance for children, be- 
cause the body is more plastic, and more easily changed 
in shape, and because children become fatigued rnore 
easily than their elders. 

Such seats as these here described should be secured 
for all schools. If possible, they should be adjustable, 
so that each child can be fitted to a seat. Where that 
expense is too great, each room should have at least a 
few adjustable seats so that the unusually large and 
small pupils can be suited. 

REFERENCES 
Child Hygiene and Diseases 

Andrews, J. G. Age Incidence, Sex and Comparative Frequency in 
Disease. Bailliere. 1909, 439 pp. 

Armstrong and Fortescue-Brickdale. Infectious Diseases occurring 
in Schools. Bristol, 19 12, 141 pp. 

Baby Saving Show of Philadelphia. Pub. by Child Hygiene Asso- 
ciation, Phila., 1912. $1.00. 

Baker, Josephine. Reduction of Infant Mortality. N. Y. Med. 
Jour., 1911, 1067-1069. 

Blagg, Helen M. Infant Mortality in United Stales, Lond., 1910, 

44 PP- 
Budin, Pierre. The Nursling (trans, by W. J. Maloney.) Caxton, 

1907, 158 pp. (Standard.) 
Burnham, W. H. Hygiene of the Nose. Fed. Sent., 1908, 155-169. 

Bibliog. 
Campbell, C. M. Skin Diseases in Childhood. Pub. by "Baby." 

Mother's Mag. Lond., 60 pp. 
Cotton, A. C. Care of Children. Chicago, 1907, 199 pp. 
Crowley, R. H. Hygiene of School Life. ' Lend., 1910, 403 pp. 



Common Diseases and Defects 51 

Fell, A. S. Prevention of Spread of Contagious Disease. Am. 

Jour. Pub. Hygiene. N. S., 1910, 82-91. 
Forsyth, David. Children in Health and Disease. Murray, 1909, 

366 pp. 
Gorst, John E. Children of the Nation. Lond., 1906, 297 pp. (Good.) 
Greene, H. C. Opthalmia Neonatorum, Jour. Am. Pub. Health 

Assn., 191 1, 455-459- 
Hermann, Chas. Prevention of Spread of Contagious Disease. 

Int. Arch, of School Hygiene, 1909, 1-20. 
Hoag, Ernest B. Health Index of Children. San Fran., 1910, 

188 pp. Bibliog. 
Holt, Emm.ett L. Diseases of Infancy and Childhood. Appleton, 

2d ed., 1902, 1 161 pp. (Standard.) 
Huddersfield {Eng.) Kept. Inf. Mart., 1908, 144 pp. 
Koplik, Henry. Diseases of Infancy and Childhood. Lea and 

Febiger. 3d rev. ed., 19 10, 895 pp. (Standard.) 
Lane-Claypon. Janet E. Waste of Infant Life. Nineteenth Cent., 

1909, 48-64. 
Mackenzie, W. S. Health and Disease. Lond., 191 1, 254 pp. 
McCleary, G. F. Infaittile Mortality and Milk Depots. Lond., 

1905, 135 PP- 
Minot, C. S. Problem of Age, Growth and Death. N. Y., 1908, 

280 pp. * 
Morrow, Prince. Problem of School Hygiene. Med. Times, 

1909, 161-166. 
Mortality, Infant. Bulletin of American Academy of Medicine, 

1909, 347 pp. 

Mortality, Infant, Reports of American Association for Study 

and Prevention of, beginning in 1910. 
Newman, Geo. Infant Mortality. Lond., 1906, 356 pp. 
Newton, Anne B. Mother and Baby. Lothrop, Lee and Shepard, 

1912. 238 pp. $1.00. 
Notter and Firth. Theory and Practise of Hygiene. Lond., 1908, 

974 PP- 
O'Hea, J. P. Rearing of Children. Lond., 1910, 175 pp. 
Oppenheim, Nathan. Diseases of Childhood. Macmillan, 1900, 

653 PP- 
Care of Child in Health. Macmillan, 1901, 308 pp. 
Phelps, E. B. Infant Mortality. Am. Statis. Assn. Vol. XII, Dec. 

1910, 341-359- 



52 The Child 

Pisek, G. R. Milk Stations and Reduction of Infant Mortality. 
N. Y. Med. Jour., 191 1, 1065-1067. 

Pyle, W. L. (ed.). Manual of Personal Hygiene. Sanborn Co., 1907, 
451 pp. (Very good as an un technical but reliable presenta- 
tion.) 

Ravenhill, Alice. Practical Hygiene. Lond., 1907, 744 pp. Bibliog. 

Saleeby, C. W. Health, Strength and Happiness. N. Y., 1908, 
448 pp. 

Stables, W. G. Parent's Guide to Children's Ailments. Lond., 

1909, 236 pp. 

Starr, L. Hygiene of the Nursery. 7th ed., Phila., 1906. 

Tucker, Blanche. Care of Babies and , Young Children. Longmans, 

1907, 67 pp. 
Wallin, J. E. W. Infant and Child Orthogenesis. Psy. Clinic, 

Nov. 1912, 153-173- 
Welpton, W. P. Physical Education and Hygiene. Lond., 1908, 

383 pp. 
Wheeler, Marianna. The Baby. Harper, 1901, 189 pp. 
White, G. T. Statistics of Infant Mortality. Survey, 1910, 877-884, 
Wright, Lucy. Opthalmia Neonatorum. Nat. Con. Char. Corr., 

1910, 357-364- 

See also, reports of the International Congress for Welfare 
and Protection of Children, beginning in 1899, and of the 
International Congress of School Hygiene, beginning in 1907. 

Posture 

Bancroft, Jessie H. Posture of School Children. Macmillan, 19 12, 
327 pp. (Carefully chosen bibliography. This book is in- 
valuable to any teacher, and is the only one of its kind so 
far. It puts together numerous things that have so far 
been widely scattered.) 
See also. Articles on School Furniture, under School Hygiene. 

Teeth 

Bell, V. C. Our Teeth. How to Take Care of Them. Young Am. 

Pub. Co., N. Y.,2ded., 1900, 77 pp. (Very simple and good.) 
Burnham, W. H. Hygiene of the Teeth. Ped. Sent., 1906, 293- 

306. (Bibliography up to that date.) 
Gant, A. W. Dental Inspection in Cambridge (England). School 

Hygiene, 191 1, 402-411. 



Common Diseases and Defects 53 

Holmes, Arthur. Can Impacted Teeth cause Moral Delinquency? 

Psy. Cliftic, Vol. XIV, 1910, 19-23. (Very interesting case.) 
Irwin, A. Status of School Dentistry, 4th Int. Cong, of School 

Hygiene, Vol. II. 349-358. 
Kirk, E. C. Dental Disabilities of School Children. Psy. Clinic, 

1910, 217-223. 
Marshall, J. S. Mouth Hygiene and Mouth Sepsis. Phila., 1912, 

262 p, (Excellent.) 
Merritt, A. H. Mouth Hygiene in Relation to Health. Am. 

Acad. Pol. and Soc. Sc, 1911, 472-486. 
Pedley, Denison and Harrison. Our Teeth. Blackie and Son., 

Lond., 1908, 97 pp. (Not so complete as Marshall, but very 

good.) 
Reavis, W. C. Dental Examination. Ele. Sch. Teach., 1910, 

90-98. 
School Dentists' Society. Objects and Aims. Watford, Eng., 

1913, 116 pp. (Shows how dentists can deal with the 

problem of school children's teeth.) 
Tremaine, W. F. Dental Irregularities and Mental Infirmities, 

Jour. Psycho-asthenics, 1909, 48-50. 
Upton, Henry S. Dental Irritation as Cause of Mental Aberration, 

Rev. Neur. and Psy., 1910, 457-462. 
Wallace, J. S. Prevention of Dental Caries. 2d ed., Lond., 1913, 

70 pp. (Good and practical.) 
Wallin, J. E. W. Medical and Dental Inspection in Cleveland 

Schools. Psy. Clinic, 19 10, 93-108. 
Experimental Oral Euthenics, Dental Cosmos, Apr. and May. 

1912, 32 pp. 

Sleep 
Ackland, T. D. Hours of Sleep at Public Schools. Churchill, 

Lond., 33 pp. 
Also in Lancet, July 15, 1905, 136-142. 
Claperede, Ed. Theorie biologique de sommeil. Arch, de Psy., 

1904-5, 245-349. Bibliog. 
Collins, J. Sleep and the Sleepless. Sturgis and Walton, 1912, 

129 pp. $1.00. 
Coriat, Isador. Nature of Sleep. Jotir. Abn. Psy., 191 1, 329-368. 
Eurich, F. W. Sleep. Child Life, 1910, 69-76. 
Foster, H. H. Necessity for a New Standpoint in Sleep Theories. 

Am. Jour. Psy., 1901, 145-177. Bibliog. 



54 T he C hild 

Osborne, Caroline. Sleep of Infancy. Fed. Sent., 1912, 1-48. 

Bibliog. (This article and that of Terman and Hocking 

best sum up the matter of sleep for children.) 
Ravenhill, Alice. Some Characteristics of Childhood. Leeds, 70 pp. 
Sleep among School Children. Int. Arch, fiir Sch. Hygiene, 

Apr., 1908, B. 5, H. I, 8-25. (Excellent on English children.) 
Rowe, E. C. Hygiene of Sleep. Psy. Rev., 191 1, 425-432. 
Sidis, Boris. Experimental Study of Sleep. Boston, 1909, 106 pp. 
Terman, Lewis M. and Hocking, Adeline. Sleep of School 

Children. Jour. Ed. Psy., Mar., Apr., May, 1913. Bibliog. 

(See Osborne above.) See also 4th Int. Cong. School 

Hygiene, Vol. II. 38-47. 

Diet 

Bean, C. H. Starvation and Mental Development. Psy. Clinic, 
1909, 78-85. 

Bell, Sanford. Psychology of Foods. Ped. Sem., 1904, 57-90. 
(Almost the only study on the psychological aspects. Gives a 
long list of children's food experiments, likes and dislikes, etc.) 

Benedict, F. G. Mental and Muscular Work and Nutritive Proc- 
esses. Proc. Am. Phil. Soc, 1910, 145-163. 

Brown, D. R. The Baby. Whitcomb and Barrows, 1908, 193 pp. 

Bryant, Louise S. School Feeding. Lippincott, 1913, 345 pp. 
f 1.50. (An authoritative survey of conditions.) 

Cannon, W. B. Real Nature of Hunger. Pop. Sc. Mo., Sept. 
1912, 291-307. (Recent experiments. Cannon is one of 
the authorities on this subject in this country.) 

Chittenden, Russell H. The Nutrition of Man. Stokes, 1907, 
301 pp. (One of the standards.) 

Davis, N. S. Food in Health and Disease. Blakiston, Phila., 
1912, 449 pp. $3.50. 

Denyer, C. H. Feeding School Children at Public Expense. Econ. 
Jour., 1906, 617-622. 

Elliott, C. A. Feeding by the State. Nineteenth Cent., 1909, 862- 

874. 
Fitz, Rachel K. and Geo. W. Problems of Babyhood. Holt, 

1906, 121 pp. {See sections on Food and Diet.) 
Food Reform Association, National. Report on Diet and Hygiene 

in Schools. London, 19 12, 467 pp. 
Hall, G. S. Hygiene of Appetite. Trans. 4th Int. Cong. School 

Hygiene, 191 3, Vol. I. 332-336. 



Common Diseases and Defects 55 

Hall, Winfield S. Nutrition and Dietetics. Appleton, 1910, 298 pp 
Heron, David. Mental Defect, Malnutrition. Dolan, Lond., 191 1 

34 PP- 
Holt, Emmett L. Care and Feeding of Children. Appleton, 66 pp 

(Standard. Widely used.) 
Hunt, Caroline L. Daily Meals of School Children. Wash 

Govt. Print., 1909. Bull. No. 3, 62 pp. Bibliog. (Standard 

Gives dietaries, etc.) 
Hunter, Robert. Social Significance of XJnderfed Children. Int 

Quart., 1906, 324-341. 
Kellogg, J. H. Unwholesome Diet ... in School Children 

Tran. 4th Int. Cong. School Hygiene, 1913. Vol. H. 96-105 
Kerley, C. G. Short Talks with Young Mothers. Putnam, 1909 

327 pp. (See sections on Food.) 
Loch, C. S. Feeding of School Children. Yale Rev., Nov. 1906 

230-250. 
MacCarthy, F. H. Hygiene for Mother and Child. Harper, 19 10, 

286 pp. (See sections on Food.) 
Myers, Bernard. Care of Children. Lond., 19 10, 161 pp. 
Osborne, Lucy A. School Luncheons. Ped. Sent., June 19 12, 

204-219. 
Richards, Ellen. First Lessons in Food and Diet. Whitcomb and 

Barrows. 
Richards and Talbot. Food as a Factor in Student Life. (Excellent.) 
Rockwood, Laura C. Food Preparation. Pop. Sc. Mo., 191 1, 

277-298. 
Sadler, S. H. Infant Feeding by Artificial Means. Routledge, 

Lond., 1909, 241 pp. 
Schuyten, M. C. Coefficient of Nutrition in Antwerp School Chil- 
dren. 4th Int. Cong. School Hygiene. Vol. II. 106-109. 
Tallman, R. W. Taste and Smell in Diet. Gale's Psy. Studies, 

1900, 1 18-138. (A psychological survey, very suggestive.) 
Thompson, W. G. Practical Dietetics. Appleton, 1903, 814 pp. 

(Standard.) 
Vincent, Ralph. Nutrition of the Infant. Bailliere, 1904, 304 pp. 

(Good.) 
Winder, Phyllis D. Public Feeding. Longmans, 191 3, 84 pp. 

Ventilation and Air 

Benedict and Higgins. Effects on Men at Rest of Breathing 
Oxygen. Am. Jour. Phys., 1911, 1-28. 



56 The Child 

Billings and Bergey. Composition of Expired Air. Smith. Cont. 

to Knowl. Wash., 1905. Vol. XXIX, 81 pp. 
Burnham, W. H. Fatigue in Relation to Need of Oxygen. Proc. 

Am. School Hygiene Assn., N. Y., 191 1, 81-87. 
Oxygen Supply as Condition of Efficient Brain Activity. Jour. 

Ed. Psy., 1911, 421-428. Bibliog. 
Carrington, T. S. Fresh Air and How to Use It. N. Y., 1912, 215 

pp. $1.00. 
Haldane and Priestley. ■ Lung Ventilation. Jour, of Phys., 1905, 

225-266. 
Hill, L. Stuffy Rooms. Pop. Sc. Mo., Oct. 1912, 374-396. 
Hill and Flack. Influence of Oxygen Inhalation on Muscular 

Work. Jour, of Phys., 1910, 347-372. 
Hines, L. N. School Room Temperature and Work of Pupils. 

Psy. Clinic, 1909, 106-113. 
Macfie, R. G. Air and Health. Methuen, Lond., 1909, 345 pp. 
Miiller, J. P. The Fresh-Air Book. Stokes, 1910, 152 pp. 
Northrup, W. P. Good and Bad Air and Effects on Children. 

Ped. Sem., 1909, 442-444. 
Rosenau and Amos. Organic Matter in Expired Breath. Jour. 

Med. Res., 191 1, 25-84. 
Titchener, E. B. Psychophysics of Climate. Am. Jour. Psy., 

1909, 1-14. 
Tuberculosis in School Children. Fourth Annual Conference 

National Association for Prevention of Consumption. Lond., 

1912. 
Wachenheim, F. L. Tuberculosis in School Children. Ped. Sem., 

1909, 378-384. 

Open-Air Schools 
Alden, Geo. A. Open-Air Schools. Pub. Health. 1912, 249-259. 
Ayres, Leonard. Open-Air Schools. Doubleday, Page and Co., 

N. Y., 1910, 165 pp. (Most complete survey.) 
Byles, A. H. Open-Air School. World's Work. 1909, 197-208, 
Carrington, T. S. How to Build and Equip an Outdoor School. 

Survey, 19 10, 1 44-151. 
Clark, Ida H. Open-Air Schools. Proc. N. E. A., 1909, 894-901. 
Colton, Margaret. Out-of-Door Kindergarten Sessions. Proc. 

N. E. A., 1910, 410-413. 
Curtis, Elnora. Open-Air Schools. Ped. Sem., 1909, 169-194. 

Bibliog. (Best article in English.) 



Common Diseases and Defects 57 

Dew, L. E. Open-Air Schools for Abnormal Children. World 

To-day, 191 1, 557-564- 
Hine, Lewis W. School in the Park. Outlook, 1906, 712-719. 
Ingram, Helen. Value of Fresh-Air Movement. Rept of Nat. 

Con. Char. Corr., 1907, 286-294. 
Kingsley, S. C. Open-Air Crusaders. United Charities of Chicago, 

1910, 107 pp. (Inspiring account of work in Chicago.) 
Morin, Jeanne. Open-Air Schools in France. Wide World, 1909, 

196-201. 
O'Hagan, Anne. Open-Air Schools. Munsey, Apr. 191 1, 70-80. 
Watt, Wm. E. Open-Air. Little Chronicle Co., Chicago, 19 10, 

82 pp. (Interesting account.) 

vScHooL Hygiene and Sanitation 
Barry, W. F. Hygiene of the Schoolroom. Snow and Farnham, 

Providence, 1903, 167 pp. 
Briggs, W. R. Modern American School Buildings. N. Y., 1902, 

411 pp. 
Burgerstein, Leo. Sanitation and School Work. Ped. Sem., 1910, 

16-28. 
Relation of Body to Mind. Ibid., 29-39. 
Burgerstein and Netolitzky. Handbuch der Schulhygiene. Barth, 

Leipzig, 1912, 548 pp. (One of _the best on the subject.) 
Burrage and Bailey. School Sanitation and Decoration. Heath, 

1899, 191 pp. 
Conservation of School Children. Conference at Lehigh University, 

1912. Am. Acad. Med. (Articles by authorities on teaching 

hygiene, sex hygiene, defective children, feeding, etc.) 
Cotton, F. J. School Furniture for Boston Schools. Am. Phys. 

Ed. Rev., Dec. 1904. (Good.) 
Crowley, R. H. Hygiene of School Life. Lond., 1910, 403 pp. 

(Good.) 
Dresslar, Fletcher B. School Hygiene. Macmillan, 1913, 369 pp. 
Egbert, Seneca. Hygiene and Sanitation. Lea and Febiger, 19 10, 

508 pp. 
Gerhard, W. P. Sanitation of Public Buildings. Wiley and Sons, 

1907, 262 pp. 
Herman, Ernst. The Physical Phase of the School. Series of 

articles in Jour, of Ed., 1909. 
Hutt, C. W. Hygiene for Health Visitors, School Nurses and Social 

Workers. Lond., 1912, 415 pp. (A practical compendium.) 



58 T he C hild 

Kelynack, T. N. (ed.). School Life. Lond., 191 1, 159 pp. 
Mackenzie, R. L. School Life and Curvature of the Spine. Proc. 

N. E. A., 1898, 938-949. 
McGown, W. E. Sanitary Condition of a Public School Building. 

Fed. Sent., Dec. 19 10, 480-490. 
Moore, J. A. The Schoolhouse, its Heating and Ventilation. Boston, 

1905, 204 pp. 
Nice, Leonard B. Disinfection of Books. Fed. Sent., 191 1, 197 

204. 
Putnam, Helen C. School Janitors, Mothers and Health. Am. 

Acad. Med. Press, 1913, 201 pp. (Written for mothers, very 

simply but accurately, with practical suggestions.) 
Richards, Ellen. Sanitation in Daily Life. Boston, 1907, 78 pp. 

(Good.) 
Rowe, Stuart E. Lighting of Schoolrooms. N. Y., 1904, 85 pp. 

Bibliog. (Good.) 
School Furniture. Boston School Committee Report, 1901-5. 

(Good.) 
Sever, J. W., School Desks and Chairs . . . in U. S. 4th Int. 

Cong. School Hygiene, Vol. II, 676-691. 
Shaw, E. R. School Hygiene. Macmillan, 1901, 255 pp. 
Stecker, W. A. Desks for School Children. Mind and Body, 

Apr. 191 1. (Good.) 
Wheelwright, E. M. School Architecture. Rogers and Manson, 

Boston, 1 90 1, 324 pp., with many plans. 
Wisconsin Department of Education, The School Beautiful, by 

Maud Barnett, pub. by Wis. Dept. of Ed., 94 pp. 
See also Report of Schoolhouse Commission, Wash. Govt. Frint., 

1908, with numerous plans, pictures, estimates of cost, etc.; 

and Report of Woman's Association for Betterment of 

Public School Houses, in Report of State Superintendent of 

North Carolina, 1905, 60 pp., which contains pictures of old 

and new buildings, etc. 
For current articles, and information of new movements, 

investigations, etc., see the monthly magazine. School Hygiene. 

(Lond., IS. per copy.) 

Medical Inspection 

Burnham, W. H. Medical Inspection in Schools. Fed. Sem., 
1900, 70-94. Bibliog. 



Common Diseases and Defects 59 

Cornell, W. S. Health and Medical Inspection. Davis Co., 1912, 

614 pp. (The most complete account.) 
Gulick and Ayres. Medical Inspection. N. Y., 1908, 276 pp. 

Bibliog. 
Harrington, T. F. Medical Inspection. Proc. N. E. A., 1908, 

200-210. 
Hogarth, A. H. Medical Inspection. Lond., 1906, 360 pp. 
Jordan, W. R. Medical Inspection. Paid., 1906, 70-77. 
Kelynack, T. N. Medical Examination of Schools and Scholars. 

Lond., 19 10, 434 pp. Bibliog. 
Leipoldt, C. L. The School Nurse. Lond., 1912, 197 pp. (The 

only full account.) 
McMillan, Margaret. Citizens of To-Morrow. 2d. rev. ed., 1906, 

173-187. 
Shafer, G. H. Medical Inspection of Schools in United States. 

Ped. Sent., 191 1, 273-314. Bibliog. 
Snedden and Allen. School Reports and School Efficiency for 

New York. Com. on Physical Welfare of School Children, 

N. Y., 1908, 183 pp. 
Terman, Lewis M. Medical Inspection in California. Psy. Clinic, 

191 1, 57-62. 
For numerous articles on all the above phases of hygiene, see 
the Trans, of the Fourth International Congress on School Hygiene, 
Buffalo, 1 91 3, 5 vols. 



CHAPTER IV 

Defects of Sight, Hearing, and the Nervous System 

THE eye and the ear are the principal channels through 
which our knowledge comes, and if either of them 
is defective, the child is seriously hampered in all his 
work. He himself is not likely to know 
whether his eyes and ears are perfect, unless 
they pain him, for he is accustomed to his condition, and 
naturally supposes it to be like every one else's. We older 
people must therefore watch over him. 

For defective eyesight, notice the position of each 

child when reading or writing at his seat. His eyes 

should be about one foot from his book or paper. If 

the distance varies much from this, he should be given 

. special tests as follows : 

Nearsight (myopia). Use Snellen's type test card^ 
for this, having the child read the various lines of type 
at the distances indicated on the card. If he cannot 
see them at those distances, he is shortsighted and should 
be taken to an oculist for more careful tests. In reading 
the type, one eye should be used at a time, the other 
being left open, but covered by a piece of cardboard. 

Farsight (hyperopia). This may be roughly tested by 
holding a dime two feet before the eyes. If the eyes, 
in looking at it, turn inwards in a squint, there is prob- 
ably farsight. It is sometimes supposed that a farsighted 
eye does not need glasses as much as a nearsighted one, 

^This can be obtained from any dealer in optical supplies. It 
costs from lo to 35 cents. 

60 



Sight, Hearing, and the Nervous System 6i 

because objects are plainly seen. This is a mistake. 
The farsighted eye is under a constant strain in adjusting 
itself to see any object clearly, and this strain, if neglected, 
causes headache and nervousness. 

Astigmatism may be tested by the radiating lines 
shown on Snellen's test card. If these lines look mark- 
edly different, there is some astigmatism. 




Diagram 2. Showing Change in Nerve Cells Due to Age: ^.Special 

Ganglion Cells of a Still-Born Male Child; B, Same of a Man 

Dying at Ninety-two; m, Nuclei. Magnified 250 Diam. (Hodge.) 

Another condition which the writer believes to be 
common, but for which, unfortunately, there is no ready 
test, is that of weakness of one or more of the muscles 
controlling the movements of the eyeball. If any one of 
these muscles be weak enough it is perceptible as cross 
eye, but there are sHghter variations not perceptible to 
sight, which still put too much work upon some muscles 
in order to compensate for the weakness of the others. 
With persons who do fine work, such as reading, this 
may cause great nervousness and recurrent sick head- 
aches. If children have these symptoms, and especially 
if they complain of pain in the eyeball, these muscles 



62 



2 he Child 




should be tested along with the other eye tests. Un- 
fortunately, many oculists do not give such tests, and 
insist that the symptoms are not caused by defects in 
the eye but by conditions of general health. 

The ordinary test for hearing is given by means of a 
watch. First, see how far a person whose hearing is 
normal can hear the watch that is to be used, 
earing Then test the child with his eyes closed, in a 

quiet room. We may suspect deafness if a child seems dull 
or inattentive, and constantly asks to have 
things repeated. Not infrequently growths 
fonn in the nose, and the tonsils enlarge, 
causing a deafness that is easily cured. 

In all these cases, the tests are only 
to ascertain whether a physician's care is 
needed. The teacher can give a child a 
front seat if he be deaf, or a well-lighted 
seat if his eyesight be poor, but such 
measures are of little use vmless curative 
treatment is also given. 

When any part of the body is work- 
ing the cells of which it consists are used 
up, their structure is changed, 
and new substances, some of 
them poisonous in nature. 
The nerve cells decrease in 
size, and some of their connections with 
other nerve cells are temporarily broken. 
(See Diagrams 2 and 3.) 

If work is continued, the change or 
tearing down of the cell goes on faster 
than material to rebuild it can be fur- 
nished by the blood; the waste material 
or poison is left in part about the cell, 





Fatigue: Its 
cause and 
significance 

are fonned. 





Diagram 3. 
Showing Change 
IN THE Nucleus of 
a Frog's Nerve 
Cell during 
Seven Hours Con- 
tinuous Electri- 
cal Stimulation. 
(Hodge.) 



Sight, Hearing, and the- Nervous System 6^ 

instead of being carried off to the excretory organs, and 
in small part is absorbed by other parts of the body 
through which the blood passes. We then have the 
condition known as fatigue. 

It is evident that fatigue must follow as the result 
of use of any part of the body, and as exercise is one 
of the conditions of growth, it is also evident that fatigue 
is not, by itself, an unhealthy condition. When it sets 
in, we know that our expenditure is beginning to ex- 
ceed our income, and while we may borrow and live for 
a time on our reserve in the bank of health, it behooves 
us not to overdraw. No disease is so difficult to recover 
from entirely as is nerv^ous exhaustion. 

The amount of work which causes fatigue has been 
the subject of careful experiment, so far as fatigue of 
the muscles is concerned, and of wide- 
spread, though not so scientific, observations Conditions 
on mental fatigue. It has been found that 
in the exercise of any muscle fatigue begins to show 
after ten or fifteen seconds in a lowering of the rate of 
movement. After ten or fifteen minutes, the reduction 
is considerable, but is slower afterwards. There is also 
a phenomenon comparable to the second wind in running. 
A muscle can be exercised to the point where the ut- 
most effort of the will is hardly enough to raise the rate 
perceptibly. If, nevertheless, one continues to move it 
as much as is possible, it will, after a short time, recover 
in part its original freshness and move almost as rapidly 
and as easily as at first. This will happen ten or fifteen 
times before permanent fatigue ensues. 

It is still open to question how far exercise of any one 
set of muscles wearies the entire body. It docs so to 
some extent, doubtless, because the poisons given off by 
the muscles in use are taken up by the blood and partially 



64 The C hi Id 

absorbed by those parts of the body through which the 
blood passes. It seems hkely that exercise of the right 
hand wearies the left hand to some degree. Many insist 
that the left side of the body is more developed than it 
would be as the result of its own exercise, and that this 
is due to the reaction upon it of the exercise of the right 
side. 

In mental fatigue, as in physical, the immediate con- 
dition is the tearing down of the nervous structures more 
„ ... rapidly than they are being built up, but a 

of mental great variety of causes may lead to this con- 
fatigue dition. Prominent among them are: over- 
work; too long hours of work and too much to do in 
those hours; excessive worry over a reasonable amount of 
work ; wasteful methods of work ; not enough work or not 
enough variety in it ; a nervous system so mUch below par 
that it cannot do even a rational amount of work. 

There has been of late years a great outcry against 
the public schools on the charge of overwork. It is 
Q . . claimed that they are fast reducing our 

the public children and youth to nervous wrecks, and 
schools ^j^g^^ ^j^lg jg ^j.^g j^q|. Qj-^jy q£ Amcricans but 

of English and Germans as well. The nervousness of 
children increases in direct ratio to the number of years 
that they are in school. Their weight and appetite 
diminish from the beginning of the school year to the 
end, especially just before examinations. They have 
nightmares, grinding of the teeth, and tremors even when 
they have no well-defined nervous disease. 

All these things seem to many physicians the direct 
result of too much study. In many schools, children 
even as young as nine years are expected to do some 
home study, and from that age on the amount of it 
increases constantly. 



Sight, Hearing, and the Nervous System 65 

On the other hand, the demand is constantly made 
by superintendents and parents that this or that new 
study shall be introduced into school. The trades-unions 
want manual training; the mothers want music and 
drawing; the colleges demand languages and science. 
And yet children leave school with the merest smatter- 
ing of each subject and without knowing how to write 
a letter correctly. Is the rising generation stupid, that 
it gets nervous exhaustion in learning nothing? 

This leads directly to the claim made by many observ- 
ant parents and teachers that the undeniably bad nerv- 
ous condition of many children is not so q 
much due to the amount that they are not over- 
expected to learn as to the conditions under ^°'' 
which they work. These bad conditions may be either 
physical or mental. Under mental conditions must 
be included such things as fear — fear of the teacher's 
displeasure and of not passing examinations— and rival- 
ries — the intense desire for good marks, the consequent 
worry over inability to prepare a lesson, and the intense 
chagrin at failures in recitation or examination. Such 
conditions are thoroughly artificial and the combined 
efforts of teachers and parents should be directed toward 
removing them. Children should feel that they are in 
school primarily to learn, not to show off, and that a 
confession of ignorance after an honest attempt to get 
knowledge is not a disgrace. A give and take among 
the pupils in helping each other can also be established 
in any school and family, to replace the rivalries and 
fears of the other system and to remove one of the great 
sources of worry. 

Not uncommonly we find that a child who seems to 
be up to the average in brightness takes two or three 
times as long to prepare a lesson as another child. This 



66 The Child 

may be due to bad nen^ous conditions, which we shall 
consider soon, or to ignorance of how to study. In 
^ , J the latter case, we find that the eyes are con- 
methods of stantly wandering from the book, and that 
study there are frequent lapses into daydreams. 

Even when there is a fair amount of interest in the 
subject of study, there seems to be an inability to think 
about one thing for more than a few minutes. The best 
thing to do with such a child is to study with him for 
a time, showing him how to look for important points, 
and how to connect them with other things that he 
knows. Under our present school conditions, this is 
especially the work of the parents. Under ideal condi- 
tions, it might be the work of the teacher, but now she 
has no time in her day when such work can be done. 

Certain patient German observers experimented upon 
school children by giving them columns of figures to add 
Monotony ^°^ ^^^^ hours, or copying to do for the same 
of work length of time. They found such an appall- 

ing increase in the number of mistakes made by the end 
of the second hour that they forthwith concluded that 
our schools should all be closed or in ten years no children 
would be left alive. However, they made the funda- 
mental mistake of supposing that two hours made up of 
a variety of subjects would be as fatiguing as two hours 
of one subject. As a matter of fact, variety, while not a 
complete rest, is a partial rest, and should be carefully 
observ^ed in making out a school program or in planning 
a day's work for a child. It is believed that the best 
hours of work are from nine to eleven ; the next best from 
three to four; and the poorest from eleven to twelve. If 
we consider this in connection with the requirements of 
variety, we should have a day's program in which the 
most difficult subjects were put from nine to eleven; 



Sight, Hearing, and the Nervous System 67 

from eleven to twelve an hour should be given to sub- 
jects much less taxing, like drawing, which also gives 
some of the relief of handwork after the hard mental 
work. In the afternoon, the order would be reversed, 
the easy subjects first, and the more difficult later. 

In the demand for variety we find still another argu- 
ment for handwork, drawing, and music. If any part 
of the body is left unused for any length of time, there 
is an irritability, a cry for exercise from the neglected 
organ. If only one or a few parts of the brain are used, 
they are over-exercised and other parts are not exercised 
enough. The result is excessive weariness on one side, 
and an almost uncontrollable desire for activity on the 
other. A child brought up in but one line of thought 
and action is nearly sure to go to extremes in other 
directions as soon as the external repression is removed. 
To get a balanced, controlled character, we must culti- 
vate a variety of interests in thought and in action. 

Finally, lack of interest is perhaps the most powerful 
single factor in producing mental fatigue. The horrible 
weariness, the indescribable sense of im- 
prisonment to which a child is subjected 
who is forced to a study which he does not like, is 
something that we grown-ups will not ourselves endure 
at all. While I do not think that the school should be a 
caterer to the passing fancies of its pupils, I do believe 
that a better arrangement of our curriculum, and wiser 
and more individual methods of teaching would reveal 
many interests in children which now we do not sus- 
pect them of having. A closer connection of the school 
with the life of the home and the village or city, and a 
stronger appeal to the children's dove of doing, would 
accomplish much. 

It seems probable, then, upon consideration of the 



68 The Child 

various causes of mental fatigue, that if the conditions 
for work were improved by removing causes for worry, 
by inculcating correct habits of study, and by arranging 
the curriculum so that it should appeal to natural, per- 
manent, and valuable interests, fatigue would not be as 
prevalent among school children as it now is. This is 
true in schools where these changes have been made, 
and in less time more work is done with more lasting 
effects than under other conditions. The plea that we 
should make, therefore, is not for a shorter school day, 
but for a different one — one full of interesting work and 
free from worries. 

In discussing the causes of fatigue before the signs by 
which we may know it, we may seem to have put the 
Signs of c^^t before the horse, but the transition 

fatigue from healthy fatigue to over-fatigue, nerv- 

ousness, and nervous exhaustion is so gradual that it 
seems better to discuss them together. 

Any person who hves with children at all knows the 
first signs of fatigue. A child becomes inattentive and 
fidgety. Ideas not related to the lesson keep coming 
into his mind and he can with difficulty give even out- 
ward attention because his muscles are tired and demand 
constant movements to ease them. If a five-minute 
recess is given at this point, there will be a noticeable 
recovery of attention and of control of the body. 

If, on the other hand, work is persisted in without a 
rest, a child becomes more inattentive, fidgety, and 
irritable, and less sensitive. Careful tests show that a 
weary person's skin is not as sensitive to touch, and 
that his eye cannot distinguish colors as well as when he 
is fresh. The tired person has not as good a hand-grip or 
muscular control as the rested one. This shows in the 
schoolroom when the tired child is duller in recitation 



Sight, Hearing, and the Nervous Systetn 69 

and more awkward and untidy in moving about the 
room, in writing, etc., than at other times. Such a 
child is also more likely to be impertinent and undis- 
ciphned than when rested and "fit." A good night's 
rest and plenty of the right sort of food should restore 
the normal energy. 

If even now he has no chance to rest, other symptoms 
appear. He may have trouble in remembering the 
names of familiar persons and objects. He -phe nervous 
is almost sure to forget quickly what he has child 
learned. He is likely to be very irritable, and to pass 
quickly from the gayest to the most sorrowfiil mood. 
He will probably have bad dreams and sleep uneasily. 
On the motor side, he will be even more fidgety than at 
first. Certain movements, such as swinging the foot or 
twitching the fingers, will be kept up incessantly. The 
facial expression will become exaggerated — the eyebrows 
twitching, the forehead set in a frown, the lips compressed, 
the nostrils dilated. The whole body will be in a tense 
condition even when the child is doing nothing or is asleep. 

Such a child is decidedly nervous, although he may 
not as yet have any nervous disease. He must be care- 
fully watched and relieved from worry and fear, but kept 
pleasantly occupied. Every effort should be used to 
build up bone, muscle, and fat. Stimulating foods, and 
coffee, tea, and chocolate, should be avoided. Long 
hours of sleep should be secured. Such sensitive children 
are at once the promise and the danger of the next gen- 
eration. They may degenerate into hysterical wrecks, 
or become the leaders of society. 

When the nervous condition is permanent, especially 
if it is inborn, whether or not it be so serious that the child 
can properly be called neurotic or neurasthenic we get 
the children who tend to become peculiar or exceptional 



70 The Child 

in some way. They are more sensitive to everything in 
their environment than are average children, and whether 
Exceptional °^ ^^^ they become efficient members of 
children society depends largely upon their early 

training. They may have some hysterical or even 
epileptic tendencies, or may display a lack of mental or 
moral balance in almost any direction. 

We need not reiterate the importance of good food, 
good air, and exercise for such a child. Just in pro- 
Treatment of P°^^^°^ ^^ ^^ is unusual, does he need more 
the excep- care taken of his body. His unstable, 
tional child easily overturned nen^ous system ought to 
have all the nutrition possible without stimulation. 

For such a child, however, the most troublesome 
question is how to treat him at home and at school. 
He is always doing unusual or bad things. He does 
not get along well with other children. Perhaps he 
hates school, and he shows, all sorts of traits that make 
him the despair of all who have to deal with him. 

We can do nothing whatever with such a child until, 
with the utmost patience and sympathy, we learn to 
put ourselves in his place, to look at things from his 
standpoint, and to see how, from that standpoint, his 
actions and feelings appear justifiable. This is, of course, 
true in dealing with any children, but the difficulty in 
doing it is not usually so great as with the peculiar child. 
To put ourselves in his place we must get his confidence, 
and at the same time do some unobserved observing and 
experimenting, to find out his real interests and make 
use of them to bring him into closer relations with other 
people. In every way such a child should be led to feel 
that he is a valued and needed member of society and 
that his greatest happiness is in serving others. The 
criminal is avowedly anti-social; the genius is too often 



Sight, Hearing, and the Nervous System 71 

solitary, if he is not in open opposition to his time. 
Children with such tendencies need, therefore, not to be 
marked out and set apart from their little world, but 
rather to be bound to it by infinite ties of service and 
affection. Nothing will help an unbalanced person to 
keep his self-control so much as the knowledge that he 
has duties and obligations, provided that the service be 
not so strenuous as to become a source of worry. 

While it is not justifiable for any parent or teacher to 
be ignorant of the greater perils and temptations that 
face the child of nervous temperament than face the 
phlegmatic child, neither should they forget that under 
proper care such a child may become a most valuable 
member of society. The very instability of the nervous 
system, that makes him so easily the victim of liquor or 
vice in any form, also makes it easy for him to adopt new 
lines of action and thought, — that is, makes him less the 
slave of habit than other people are. Such a person, 
when led by high principles and love of the service of 
his fellows, becomes the hero and leader of his generation. 
His vagrant, unlawful impulses must in his childhood be 
given the balance wheel of a noble ideal, and then we. 
may expect almost any good of him. 

If, however, the nerve fatigue becomes excessive, these 

symptoms become still more pronounced. There are 

usually sleeplessness, morbid and causeless 

fears, or angers, excessive sensitiveness. Neurasthenic 

' [. . children 

crying for no or snght cause, suspiciousness, 

forgetfulness, and loss of interest both in school work and 

in play, and so on. Such a child may fairly be called 

neurasthenic. The causes of the condition are varied. 

It may be due to bad habits of living — wrong food, 

insufficient or irregular hours of sleep, bad air — or to 

overwork and worry in school, to bad home conditions. 



72 The Child 

to bad inheritance, and so on. Parent or teacher should 
seek the cause in each case, put the child under hygienic 
physical conditions and mental and moral conditions free 
from strain and anxiety, and thus perhaps save him from 
a life of nervous irritability or from a nerv^ous breakdown. 
Another common nervous condition in school children 
is chorea, usually called St. Vitus's dance. Restlessness 

and twitching movements, especially of the 

hands, fingers, arms, and legs, which make 
the child seem awkward or careless, are the common 
symptoms of this. Such children should be removed from 
school for a time, not only to give them the best opportun- 
ity for recovery but also that there may not be an epidemic 
of the disease from other children imitating them. 

We come next to the large class of children sometimes 
called backward, sometimes retarded. These children 

have in common the fact that they are not 
Retarded regularly promoted, but stay in one room 

two, three, or even more years. Medical 
inspection, however, has shown that the lack of pro- 
motion is due to very different causes. The defects 
already mentioned, such as persistent ill health, which 
either keeps the child out of school or makes him unable 
to work well in school; defective sight or hearing; ade- 
noids; nervousness or nervous disease, and so on, account 
for a considerable number of these laggards. Another 
class consists of the truants, and only the third class is 
made up of the mentally defective children — those who 
under good conditions are unable to do the regular school 
work with the average children of their own age. These 
children fall into two great classes — the dull and listless 
and the restless and excitable — but in all cases they have 
Httle power of voluntary attention and are easily suggest- 
ible. It is very difficult for them to study alone, though 



Sight, Hearing, and the Nervous System 73 

sometimes they have good memories. They tend to play 
with children younger than themselves. Morally they are 
likely to be deficient also. 

Teachers of experience will readily see that normal 
children may, under bad conditions of health or mental 
and moral environment, show for a time all these symp- 
toms characteristic of the true mental or moral defective. 
But the normal child profits by changed conditions, while 
the defective profits little or not at all. He is incorrigible 
in the Hteral sense of that word — incapable of profiting 
by correction and teaching beyond a certain point, which 
varies with different children but seems to be rather definite 
and fixed for each child. To use another common term, 
he is a case of arrested development. 

Looking at the matter most broadly, therefore, we may 
say that there are all grades of mental arrest, from 
the genius to the idiot who cannot even feed 
himself. University faculties mark off one Mental 

grade in the requirement for the doctor's 
degree that the candidate shall present a thesis which 
makes an "original contribution to the sum of existing 
knowledge," and varying and indefinite though this 
standard is, there is a genuine difference between the type 
of mind which comes up to the requirement with ease and 
enjoyment and that which with the utmost effort cannot 
attain it. College and high-school faculties feel corre- 
sponding differences between those who can and those 
who cannot pass the tests for the bachelor's degree and 
high-school graduation, while the attainment of adoles- 
cence, at whatever grade it comes, is the high-water 
mark of mental and moral attainment for large numbers 
of young men and women who almost cease to develop 
after sixteen or seventeen years of age. This is due not 
so much to lack of opportunity for further schooling as 



74 T h e C h i Id 

because they have reached their individual limit of de- 
velopment, and so have no especial interest in going on 
and could profit little by it if they were forced on. 

These, however, are variations within the limits of 
normality. Practically, we do not speak of mental defect 
unless it is so serious that the person is in- 
defect capable of earning his own living or under- 

taking the direction of his own life. But 
here again there are all sorts of gradations, from the per- 
son who can earn his living under direction, and who has 
about the intelligence of a twelve or thirteen year old 
child, down to the helpless, speechless idiot. It is of 
great importance, both from the standpoint of education 
and that of the care of such individuals, that there shall 
be some way of determining just where they stand men- 
tally, and all sorts of tests and standards of intelligence 
have been proposed for application in schools and in 
juvenile courts, as well as in institutions for the feeble- 
minded. One of the most widely used is the Binet 
system, which has been adapted to American children by 
Dr. H. H. Goddard. Where so complex a thing as in- 
telligence is involved, no one system can give perfect 
satisfaction and no system can take the place of expe- 
rience and skill in the one giving the tests, but, used with 
good judgment, these tests are of great assistance in 
classifying defective children. It should be needless to 
say that they do not indicate the causes of the defects 
discovered, and that these causes may or may not be 
remediable. 

We have already referred to remediable causes. When 
they are found to exist the treatment of the child is 
obviously to put him under the proper conditions and 
see how far he can profit by them. If, however, with 
the best of care he is not able to profit, but lags behind 



Sight, Hearing, and the Nervous System 75 

children of his own age three, four, or more years, the 
problem of his proper treatment becomes more serious 
and embarrassing. There is general agree- „ . . 
ment that such children should be taken out of classes for 
the regular school classes and given special defectives 
instruction in a class by themselves by a teacher who 
can use methods especially adapted to them. If left in 
the regular classes, they demand too much of the teacher's 
time both for teaching and discipline, and so retard the 
entire class to some degree. They themselves are un- 
happy and discouraged by the contrast between them- 
selves and the others, and often they are ridiculed by the 
normal children. If put in a class with children like 
themselves, they are able to work and learn to the limit 
of their capacity, and if in addition they can be taught 
some trade within the limits of their ability they may 
become self-supporting members of society. 

If, however, they lack ability for this, we have the 
problem of what shall be done with this large class, 
estimated at about one in every three hun- Subnormal 
dred of our population. Here again special- children 
ists are at one upon one point, namely, that such persons 
must not be allowed to transmit their defect to the 
generations to come. The studies of Goddard and others 
in tracing the ancestry of children now in institutions 
for the feeble-minded show conclusively that this class 
is largely self-perpetuating and that in the course of five 
or six generations the state may spend hundreds of 
thousands of dollars in supporting the descendants of a 
single feeble-minded man or woman, in jails, in charitable 
institutions, or in institutions for the feeble-minded. 
In order to protect itself, society mvist prevent the propa- 
gation of this class. 

The two methods suggested for accomplishing this end 



76 T h e C hil d 

are segregation and sterilization. The latter is now 
being tried in certain states, and the outcome of the 
experiment will be watched with great interest. Those 
who favor this plan believe that the necessary operation 
leaves no permanent bad effects, and the defective person 
is thereafter free to live with his or her own family and 
participate in social life and activity as far as he is able, 
without at the same time being a menace to society. 
The state is saved the expense of supporting large in- 
stitutions to care for this class, and avoids all the difificult 
problems connected with the administration of the in- 
stitutions and the training of the inmates. 

The older method, and the one still most widely in 
use, is that of requiring all defectives, especially women, 
to be segregated in institutions during the reproductive 
period. Those advocating this method urge that the 
operation of sterilization has not yet been proved to be 
free from permanent bad effects, and that, furthermore, 
defectives inmost cases are not happy or useful members 
of society. If kept by themselves they can be developed 
to their limit and not be forced beyond it, while out in 
the world they are almost inevitably forced to a pace 
too rapid for them to maintain. The expense is, of course, 
greater at first, but if segregation is strictly enforced, so 
that there can be no further propagation of this class, it 
will be greatly diminished in the course of one generation. 

There is still another class of children and youth for 
which the term "moral defectives" has been proposed. 
Moral "^^ some extent this class overlaps that of 

defectives mental defectives and that of physical de- 
fectives, but there is also a remainder in which no mental 
or physical defect can be discovered, but where there is a 
lack of moral sense which cannot be counteracted by train- 
ing or good environment. The range of delinquencies 



Sight, Hearing, and the Nervous System 77 

and crimes is great — ^ kleptomania, pyromania, incor- 
rigible cruelty and love of torturing animals, some cases 
of sexual crime, some cases of murder, and so on. In 
such cases there is sometimes an insane heredity, and 
sometimes a transition later to insanity. It may be that 
there is always defective development or injury to some 
center of the brain, but if this is so it cannot yet be 
demonstrated. Such tendencies are likely to become 
more pronounced at adolescence, but they may appear 
between seven" and nine years of age, or even earlier. 
How far they can be corrected if taken in their earliest 
stages is still unknown. It goes without saying that any 
teacher or parent will do the utmost to correct them at 
once, but so far we are unable to deal very effectively 
with this class because we have no tests to show whether 
or not the person is incorrigible. Such cases come before 
the courts repeatedly for the slighter crimes. On the 
other hand, even though a youth may show tendencies to 
horrible crime, under present conditions he cannot be put 
under restraint until the crime is actually committed, and 
then he must be treated as though he were a normal, 
responsible person, unless he can be proved insane. But 
the tests for insanity are themselves fluctuating, and so we 
go round the circle of ignorance and end in indecision as 
to the best treatment of this class of "moral defectives." 



REFERENCES 

Sight 

Most of the texts on school hygiene and the books on medical 
inspection contain the tests for sight and hearing. 
Allen, E. E. Education of Defectives. Am. Book Co., 191 1, 52 pp. 
Allen, F. Injuries to the Eye caused by Intense Light. Science, 

N. S., 1902, Vol. XV, 109- 1 10. 
American Textbook on Diseases of Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat. 1899- 

6 



yS The Child 

Booth, F. W. Report of Commission on Defective Sight and 
Hearing of School Children. Proc. N. E. A., 1903, 1036-1037. 

Case, G. M. Eye Strain and Crime. Ophth. Rec, N. S., 1906, 
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Bales, H. Functional Disorders of Vision. Birm. Med. Rec, 

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Eberhardt, J. C. Examination of Eyes. Ele. Sch. Teach., 1907, 

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Ewing, A. E. Universal Test Characters as Visual Tests. Nixon 

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Eye and the Printed Page. Eye movements in reading, right way 
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Gould, G. M. Cause, Nature and Consequences of Eye Strain. 
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Discovery of Astigmatism and Eye Strain. Am. Med., 1902, 

618-622. 
Incurable Eye Strain. Jour. Am. Med. Assn., 1906, 734-739. 
Eye Strain. Ibid., 847-851. 
Harman, N. B. Eyes and Vision of School Children. School 
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Influence of Schoolbooks upon Ej'^esight. Brit. Assn. Adv. Sc, 1912 

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1055-1066; i6id., 191 1, 1 059- 1 063. 
Lighting and Color Scheme of School Buildings. Rept. of Boston 

Sch. Com. of Oculists and Electricians, Dec. 1907, No. 14, 

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Psy., Jan. 1912, 1-36. Bibliog. 
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Sight, Hearing, and the Nervous System 79 

Shawan, J. A. School Activities in Relation to Children's Eyes. 

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Lancet, 1904, 1 181- 1 186. 
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Hearing 

Andrews, B. R. Auditory Tests. Am. Jour. Psy., 1904, Vol. XV, 

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Chrisman, Oscar. Hearing of School Children. Ped. Sem., 1894, 
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Sight and Hearing in Relation to Education. Proc. N. E. A., 

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Fuller, Sarah. How Helen Keller was Taught Speech. Volta 

Bureau, 1905. 
Grant, D. Varieties of Nerve Deafness. Jour. Laryn., Rhin. and 

Otol., 1902, 169-178. 
Keller, Helen. Story of My Life. Doubleday, 1904, 441 pp. 

The World I Live In. Century Co., 1908, 195 pp. 
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Fatigue 

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School Fatigue Question in Germany. Ed. Rev., Vol. XV, 

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Sight, Hearing, and the Nervous System 8i 

Wright, W. R. EflFects of Incentives on Work and Fatigue. Psy. 

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212 pp. 
Peckham, Grace. Nervousness of Americans. Trans. III. Soc. C. S., 

1886, 37-49. 
Rachford, B. K. Neurotic Disorders of Childhood. N. Y., 1905, 

440 pp. 
Rayner, H. Early Recognition and Treatment of Mental Defects. 

Med. Mag., 1899, 451-461; 591-600. 
Reynolds, J. R. Influence of Tenement House Life on Nervous 

Conditions of Children. Trans. III. Soc. C. S., Vol. II, 33. 
Royce, Josiah. Mental Defects and Disorders from Teacher's Point 

of View. Ed. Rev., June- Doc. 1893, 299, 302, 449. (Very 

stimulating.) 
Russell, E. H. Exceptional Children in vSchool. Ed. Rev., Vol. VI, 

431-442. (Very suggestive.) 
Schofield, G. T. Nervousness. N. Y., 1909, 80 pp. (Good popular 

presentation.) 
Starr, M. Allen. Familiar Forms of Mental Disease. Wood and Co. 
Thomas, J. J, Hysteria in Children. Jour. Nerv. and Ment. Dis., 

1908, 209-242. 
Tuke, Hack. Dictionary of Psychological Medicine. See Index. 
Warner, Francis. Study of Children. Macmillan, 1897, 264 pp. 
Nervous System of Child. Macmillan, 1900, 233 pp. 



Sight, Hearing, and the Nervous System 83 

White and Jelliffe (cds.)- Modern Treatment of Nervous and Mental 
Diseases. 2 vols., app. 900 pp. each. Lea and Febiger, 
1913. $6.00 per vol. 

Williams, Tom. A. Psychoprophylaxis in Childhood. Jour. Abn. 
Psy., 1909, 182-199. Bibliog. 

Nervous and Mental Defects, etc. 

Arnold, Felix. Classification and Education of Afflicted Children. 

^53^. Clinic, 1908, 180-191. 
Ayres, Leonard H. Laggards in the Schools. Russell Sage Foun., 

1909, 236 pp. (Survey of the amount and causes of retarda- 
tion.) 

Backward Children. Report of Philadelphia Com., Dec. 31, 1910. 

Phila., 68 pp. 
Barr, M. W. Mental Defectives and Social Welfare. Pop. Sc. Mo., 

1899, 746-759- 
Feeble-Minded Child. Alien and Neur., 1905, 317-328. 
Bibliography of Exceptional Children. U. S. Bur. of Ed., 1912, 

Bull. No. 32, 600 titles. Compiled by A. Macdonald. 
Bibliography of Feeblemindedness, annotated. Training School, 

1910, 213-215; 1909, 11-19, 156 titles. 

Bohannon, E. W. Exceptional Children. Duluth, 1912, 29 pp. 

Also Ped. Sent., 1896. 
Butler, Amos W. The Burden of Feeblemindedness. Nat. Con. 

Char. Corr., 1907, i-ii. 
Carter, Marion H. Conservation of the Feebleminded Child. 

McClure's, June 1909, 160-171. 
Chance, Lydia G. Public School Classes for Mentally Deficient 

Children. Nat. Con. Char. Corr., 1904, 390-401. (Good 

survey of conditions at that time.) 
Criminals, Mental Defectives: Increase in Massachusetts from i8go 

to igii. Wright and Potter, State Printers, Boston, 191 1, 

50 PP- 
Dawson, G. E. Study in Youthful Degeneracy. Ped. Sent., 

1906-7, 221-258. 
Characterization of Prevailing Defects. Ped. Sem., 1909, 

339-436. 
Ellis, Havelock. The Criminal. W. Scott, Lond., 3d ed., 1907, 

419 pp. (Physical and mental characteristics.) 
Exceptional Children. Proc. N. E. A., preliminary report, 1908, 

42 pp. 



84 T he C hi Id 

Falkner, R. P. Retardation. Psy. Clinic, 1908, 57-74; 1909, 

255-275- 
Farr, Wm. Vital Statistics. San. Inst. C. B., Vol. XXIV. 

(Relation of degeneracy to sterility, idiocy, etc.) 
Fere, Ch. Morbid Heredity. Pop. Sc. Mo., July 1895, 388- 

399- 
Fernald, Walter E. Im.becile with Criminal Instincts. Jour. 
Psychoasth., 1909-10, 16-38. 
Mentally Defective Children in Public Schools. Ibid., Vol. 
VIII, 25-35- 
Goddard, H. H. The Kallikak Family. Macmillan, 1912, 121 pp. 
(Showing the heredity of feeble-mindedness, the cost to the 
state, etc., a very important study.) 
Heredity of Feeblemindedness. Am. Breeders' Mag., 1910, 

165-178; Eug. Rev., 191 1, 46-60. 
Numerous articles on mental deficiency and tests in The Train- 
ing School, Jour. Ed. Psy., el al. 
Sterilization and Segregation. In Conservation of Children, 
Am. Acad, of Med., Conf. 1912, 53-62. 
Groszmann, M. H. Position of the Atypical Child. Jour. Nerv. 
and Ment. Dis., 1906, 425-446. 
To What Extent may Atypical Children succeed in the Public 
Schools? Proc. N. E. A., 1904, 754-759. 
Harris, W. T. Study of Arrested Development as produced in 

School Children. Jour, of Ed., 1900, 453-466. 
Hart, H. H. Sterilization as a Practical Measure. Russell Sage 
Foun., 1913, II pp. 
Extinction of the Defective Delinquent. Russell Sage Foun., 

1913, 15 PP- 
Healy, Wm. Mentality of Defectives and the Courts. Jour. 

Psychoasth., 19 10, 44-60. 
Holmes, Arthur. Moral Imbecile or Bad Boy: Which? Psy. 
Clinic, 1 910, 1 09- 1 16. 
Conservation of the Child. Lipp., 1912, 345 pp. (Important.) 
Huey, E. B. Backward and Feebleminded Children. Warwick and 

York, 1912, 213 pp. Bibliog. (Good survey.) 
Johnstone, E. R. Prevention of Feeble Mindedness. Jour. 
Am. Pub. Health Assn., Vol. I, 191 1, 90-97. 
Practical Provision for Mentally Deficient Children. Nat. 

Con. Char. Corr., 1908, 316-335. 
Also various articles in The Training School. 



Sight, Hearing, and the Nervous System 85 

Kerr, J. Mentally Defective Children. Birni. Med. Rev., 1905, 

251-274. 
LaPage, C. P. Feeblemindedness in Children of School Age. Man- 
chester Univ. Press, 191 1, 359 pp. 
Lincoln, D. F. Education of Feebleminded in U. S. Rept. U. S. 

Com. Ed., 1902, 2157-2197. (Good up to that date.) 
Lloyd, J. R. Education of Physically and Mentally Defective 

Children. West. Rev., 1903, 662-674. 
Lombroso, Cesare. Alan of Genius. Scribner's. $1.25. (Relation 

between genius and degeneracy.) 
Longmead, Fred. Forms of Mental Defect. School Hygiene, Feb. 

1913, 9-18. (Classification and general survey.) 
Maennel, Bruno. Auxiliary Education. . . . Training of Backward 

Children. Doubleday, 1909, 267 pp. 
Neighbours, Owen J. Retardation. Ele. Sch. Teach., 1910, 

119-135- 
Nordau, Ma.x. Degeneration. Appleton. $3.50. 
Norsworthy, Naomi. Psychology of Mentally Deficient Children. 

The Science Press, N. Y., 1906, in pp. 
Richman, Julia. Special Classes. Nat. Con. Char. Corr., 1907, 

232-243. 
Sherlock, E. B. The Feeble Minded. Macmillan, 191 1, 327 pp. 
Shuttleworth and Potts. Mentally Defective Children. 3d rev. ed., 

1910, 236 pp. (Standard.) 

Strayer, G. S. Retardation and Elimination. Wash. Gov. Print., 

1911,144 pp. Bibliog. (Good survey.) 
Triplett, Norman. Pedagogical Arrests and Peculiarities. Fed. 

Sem., 1905, 141-157. Bibliog. 
Wallin, J. E. W. Mental Defectives. Warwick and York, 1912, 

155 PP- 
Mental Health of the School Child. Yale U. Press, 191 4, 450 pp. 
Witmer, Lightner. Special Classes for Backward Children. Phila., 

191 1, 275 pp. (Most complete account.) 

Retardation in Children of the Rich. Psy. Clinic, 1907, 

157-174- 

Criminals in the Making. Psy. Clinic, 191 1, 221-238. 

Retardation. Psy. Clinic. 1910, 121-131. 

Also various other articles in Psy<, Clinic. 
For other literature, account of present conditions, etc., see Psy- 
chological Clinic, Journal of Abnormal Psychology, Journal of 
Psychoasthenics, and The Training School. 



86 The Child 

Tests of Intelligence 

Abelson, A. R. Measurement of Mental Ability of Backward 

Children. Brit. Jour. Psy., 191 1, 268-314. 
Bell, J. C. Recent Literature on Binet-Simon Tests. Jour. Ed. 

Psy., Vol. II, 1912, 101-114. 
Binet and Simon. Method of Measuring the Development of Intel- 
ligence. Trans, by Clara H. Towne, 2d. ed. 1913. Chicago 

Medical Book Co., 82 pp. $1.00. (These are the tests about 

which the battle is now waging.) 
Goddard, H. H. Feeble Minded Children Classified by Binet 

Method. Binet-Simon scale revised. Ped. Sem., Sept. 

1910, 387-397; June 191 1, 232-259; The Training School. 
Hcaly and Fernald. Tests for Practical Mental Classification. Rev. 

Pub, Co., Lancaster, 191 1, 53 pp. 
Huey, E. B. The Binet Scale. Jour. Ed. Psy., 1910, 435-444. 
Retardation and Mental Examination. Jour. Psychoaslh., 

Vol. XV; Psy. Bull, Apr. 1912, 160-168. 
Present Status of Binet Tests. Psy. Bull., Apr. 1912. Bibliog. 
Kuhlmann, F. Binet Tests. Jour. Psychoasth., Monog. Sup., Vol. 

I, No. I, 1912, 41 pp. (Gives the results of his use of the 

tests on large numbers of children.) 
Schmitt, Clara. Binet-Simon Tests. Ped. Sem., June 19 12, 

186-200. 
Stern, Wilhelm. Die psychologische Methode der Intelligenspriifung. 

Barth, Leipzig, 1912, 106 pp. (The most critical evaluation 

of methods. It is to be hoped some one will translate it.) 
Terman, L. M. The Binet-Simon Scale. Psy. Clinic, 191 1, 239-244. 
Terman and Childs. Tentative Revision and Extension of Binet- 
Simon Tests. Jour. Ed. Psy., 19 12, 61-74. 
Thorndike, E. L. Theory of Mental and Social Measurements. 

Revised and enlarged ed., 191 3, 277 pp. $2.50. 
Towne, Clara H. Binet-Simon Scale and Psychologists. Psy. 

Clinic, 1912, 239-244. 
Wallin, J. E. W. Administration of Binet-Simon Scale. Psy. 

Clinic, 191 1, 217-238. 
Whipple, G. M. Manual of Mental and Physical Tests. Warwick 

and York, 1910, 534 pp. 
For articles and symposiums on the above subjects see also Trans. 

of the Fourth Inter^iational Congress of School Hygiene, 

Buflfalo, 1913, 5 vols. 



CHAPTER V 

Feelings and Ideas of Sex 

WITHIN the last decade there has been a great 
awakening as to the importance of instruction in 
sex hygiene. Among the many factors which have con- 
tributed to this may be mentioned the work „ . , 
of eugenic societies, the diminishing birth sex man- 
rate both here and abroad, the increasing testations 
knowledge of sexual diseases, and the pathological studies 
of Freud and his followers. In this country Dr. G. 
Stanley Hall's great work on Adolescence has emphasized 
as has no other the significance of a normal attainment of 
maturity both for the individual and society, not merely 
on the physiological side but still more on the side of 
character and civilization in their highest phases. We 
are beginning to understand that no adequate psychology 
can be written either of the adult or the child mind which 
ignores this fundamental instinct. 

In the sex instinct the race speaks through the indi- 
vidual. Biologists tell us that though our body dies the 
germ plasm is immortal. Before any organs are formed 
in the developing embryo the genninal cells have sep- 
arated from the other cells, and in them, through inher- 
itance, the torch of life is passed on from generation to 
generation. As hunger is the fundamental motive for 
individual preservation, so sex desire is the fundamental 
motive for race preservation, and both play up and 
down the gamut of life in infinite forms. So varied and 
transformed are these that often we should not be 

87 



88 The Child 

able to recognize them if we could not trace their gradual 
development. 

Every organ of the body contributes its quota to our 
general bodily feeling and affects our state of mind, 
g J . although we are not usually able to single 

of related out each constituent and trace it to its 
factors source. We cannot doubt that the repro- 

ductive organs add their mite to this fund of common 
feeling, for it is impossible that any healthy organ should 
exist without acting and reacting upon the rest of the 
body. Still, such feelings are very vague in the bab}^ 
and in the child, and though they are the forerunners of 
sex desire we should keep clearly in mind the fact that 
they are to it but as the acorn to the oak. Pathological 
cases, in which they are exaggerated, give us some hints 
as to the form they may assume, and such cases have in 
recent years been especially studied by Freud and some 
of his pupils. To put the case very briefly, in order to 
secure the normal development of this instinct, as well as 
the control, broadening, and sublimation of it, various 
factors which later may cause abnormalities in this and 
other fields must be controlled from the beginning of 
life. Chief among these are the following: 

a. Normal and regular habits of feeding and elimina- 
tion of wastes, beginning even with the little baby. 
Anything that contributes to inflammation or prolonged 
tension here, or to overmuch thought and feeling about 
these functions, also tends to react upon the sex instinct 
by laying the basis for a passionate and irritable temper- 
ament. 

b. Children, as well as adults, fall into two great types of 
the passive and the active, or those who do and those who 
endure. In the normal person the two factors are bal- 
anced, the excess in one direction or the other being 



Feelings and Ideas of Sex 89 

slight. Such a balance can be to some degree obtained 
by noting the natural tendency in the first three years 
of life, and developing the opposite one. Great excess 
in either direction leads to distinct types of defect, if not 
of abnormality, in all the relations of life, sex relations 
among the others. 

c. The especial attraction of children for the parent of 
the opposite sex is well known, and is of especial im- 
portance when we consider that the boy's and the girl's 
ideal woman and man are almost entirely shaped by the 
father and mother. The qualities of the mate whom the 
children will later choose are those loved in the parent, 
and the child who loves the parent too much or too 
narrowly, or who loves undesirable traits, is thereby 
hampered in his choice, and is also likely to love his 
mate unwisely or wrongly. To state it somewhat differ- 
ently, the mother and father, in stimulating and shaping 
the love of their children toward themselves, are at the 
same time broadly outlining the attitude of the children 
toward their own as well as toward the opposite sex, 
both as to habits of acting and speaking and as to ideals. 

d. Closely connected, probably, with the attraction of 
the child to the parent of the opposite sex is the child's 
curiosity over sex matters. Some physicians assert that 
even the little child of three or four years is especially 
wide awake to such things as complete nudity, words and 
acts heard and seen without full understanding, and so 
on. We may perhaps question whether this is true, in a 
normal child. But it is true that by the time a child is 
four years old he usually begins to ask questions about 
the new baby, and whether he keeps a normal attitude or 
is forced into one of morbid curiosity depends upon the 
answers he first gets. Here the whole problem of sex 
instruction is involved, and this we will take up shortly. 



go The Child 

e. We know little of the sex consciousness of children 
between four or five years of age and puberty. We 
should expect to find a marked change coming between 
seven and nine with the other changes in interest 
and attitude at that age, but few studies of value have 
been made. It is sometimes called the latent or mental 
period. 

/. At some time between eleven and sixteen years 
(and even earlier or later in exceptional cases) comes the 
characteristic development of puberty. We can only refer 
in the most cursory way to these changes. 

1. The first marked change is a rapid growth in height, 
which is soon followed by increase in weight. These of 
„, course involve growth of the bones and 
puberty. muscles as well as of all the internal organs, 
I. Physical ^^^ ^j.g accompanied by changes in the 
functioning of the organs and in the feelings and sensations 
naturally associated with these activities. 

2. Changes in the circulatory system, especially in the 
relation between the heart and the arteries, are marked 
and sometimes make especial care necessary for a time. 
The heart increases more relatively than the arteries, 
reversing the condition existing in children, and this 
means greatly increased blood pressure at puberty, and a 
slight increase in bodily temperature. The quantity of 
blood increases relative to the body weight, the specific 
gravity increases (more in girls than in boys), and other 
changes in the composition also occur in both sexes. The 
frequency of the heartbeat lessens, and probably the 
strength increases. 

3. The lungs, thoracic cavity, and power of expansion 
increase greatly and are closely related to the changes in 
circulation. 

4. The brain has already reached its maximum weight. 



Feelings and Ideas of Sex 91 

but there is considerable evidence to show that at this 
period the middle layer of fibers, which connect the 
different parts of the cortex with each other and upon 
whose development the growth of intelligence depends, 
enters upon a rapid and prolonged growth. 

5. Skin and special senses. The sense of touch seems 
to be somewhat less delicate at this age, and the con- 
dition of the other sense organs as to increased discrim- 
ination is doubtful. It is certain, however, that there is 
increased attention to all these sensations and their 
a?sthetic implications. The adolescent fusses with his 
skin; develops strong likes and aversions to foods, per- 
fumes and odors, colors and fonns, sounds, etc. 

6. Various tests of muscular activity show that hand 
grip, ergograph work, and rate of tapping and reaction 
time improve greatly at this age, but that accuracy of 
movement seems not to improve. 

7. There is the characteristic change of voice. 

8. In addition to the above changes common to both 
boys and girls, though in different degrees and at different 
ages, there are also the changes peculiar to each sex in 
the growth of the reproductive organs. 

9. Changes in the feeling and thinking of the youth, 
and in his attitude toward other persons, are equally 
marked. The rapid growth of body and of 2, Psychical 
brain fibers means profound changes in all changes 
his sensations and emotions and in all his associations. 
Old ideas are seen in new vistas and perspectives. They 
acquire meanings, felt to be most deep and weighty, but 
only glimpsed, mysterious, and therefore attractive. 
Old interests get a new emphasis, new interests also rise, 
and it is not stating the case too strongly to say that if 
any given interest or ideal is to have a chance in later 
life its seed must be planted now. Ideals in all directions 



92 The C h i I d 

must be developed — love of nature, love of man, love of 
God, self-respect, and the sense of honor — all these in all 
their details must be stimulated and given the right 
outlet in action. To all of them the adolescent is highly 
sensitive if he be rightly approached, but not along the 
lines of command and prohibition. Just as he is suggest- 
ible, humble, altruistic, glowing with noble desires under 
the right conditions, so at other times he is obstinate, 
conceited, selfish, sensualistic, and perhaps cruel and 
vicious. Some of these alternations are but the reflex of 
his bodily and especially his nervous instability, and 
must be ignored until rectified by maturity. Some are 
due to unwise treatment by adults, especially to any 
form of compulsion. Happy is the adolescent boy or 
girl who feels through this period that his father and 
mother understand and sympathize. However ignorant 
the parents, however learned and famed the children in 
later life, wise and loving care at this time will ensure 
that the children will to the end of their days rise up and 
call the parents blessed. 

We enter, accordingly, upon the delicate problem of sex 
instruction and sex hygiene. The time is now past when 

_ , the need for sex instruction is questioned, 

Dangers of . . , , 

ignorance and we will only indicate in the briefest way 

to child ^YiQ dangers of ignorance to the little child 

and to the youth. 

When a little child begins to ask questions about sex 
matters he asks them of servants, playmates, or anybody 
with whom he associates, as well as of parents. He is 
almost certain to get garbled and often vicious ideas 
unless the mother takes the matter in hand and es- 
tablishes special confidential relations with him. Very 
few parents, rich or poor, can prevent the child ob- 
taining such information from some one. Furthermore, 



Feelings and Ideas of Sex 93 

vicious children or servants may teach the child habits 
of self-abuse unless he is safeguarded by the modesty 
of knowledge. 

The dangers to youth are still more serious when they 
approach adolescence in ignorance. First of all, if 
puberty comes upon them unexpectedly 
there are great mental and emotional be- 
wilderment and anguish. Far from going to the parents 
for help, the boy and girl who have been left alone in this 
crisis are likely to conceal the experience as a shameful 
secret, or to reveal it only to playmates or companions, 
who may be ignorant or vicious or both. These are the 
individuals who answer the quack advertisements by 
hundreds of thousands, and they are fortunate if they 
are despoiled only of money and do not lose health and 
virtue as well. Secondly, both boys and girls need to 
be given simple but important instruction in hygiene, 
in order that proper sex habits may be formed and the 
new functions healthily established as soon as possible. 
Thirdly, both boys and girls, but especially boys, should 
have some information about contagious sex diseases, 
which are now known to be widespread in this country 
as well as abroad. 

So obvious and well known are these dangers that no 
informed man or woman now questions the need of sex 
instruction, but there are differences of opinion as to the 
way in which it should be given, who should give it, and 
at what age it should be begun. The general consensus 
of opinion, however, seems to be along the following lines: 

First of all, it cannot be said too emphatically that 
nothing can equal the wise and loving instruction of a 
good mother and father. Parents should Home 
consider it their highest moral and religious instruction 
duty to inspire in their children the right feelings and 



94 The Child 

thoughts toward the mystery of life. If parents fail to do 
this they have failed fundamentally, and no amount of 
money, forethought, and love expended in other directions 
can make good this defect. The home is the natural 
and the best place for sex instruction. 

Under the present conditions in this country, however, 
we must admit that many parents — perhaps even the 
School majority — fail here. Accordingly, many are 

instruction urging that there should be classes for adoles- 
cent boys and adolescent girls in connection with the 
public schools. The teacher should be a woman for girls 
and a man for boys, preferably a physician, but also a 
person of attractive personality, of refinement, and with 
skill in dealing with adolescents. This general plan is 
being tried in various places and it meets with great 
success when the teacher wins the confidence of the 
pupils and the parents. 

For the matter and methods of sex instruction the 
most authoritative statement is that of the report of the 
Matter and special committee on this subject, issued by 
methods the American Federation for Sex Hygiene. 

The following are their recommendations : i 

"i. Sex instruction has a purely practical aim ... to 
impart such knowledge of sex at each period of the child's 
life as may be necessary to preserve health, develop right 
living, and control conduct. Its aim is both hygienic 
and ethical. ... In all cases, however, temptations 
should be anticipated by the instruction necessary to 
protect the child from physical or moral hann. 

"A further aim of such instruction . . . is to develop a 
healthier public sentiment in regard to sex .... More- 
over, a knowledge of the marvelous processes by which 
life is perpetuated from its lowest forms to its highest, 

^Report, copyrighted by the Federation. 



Feelings and Ideas of Sex 95 

impresses on the mind more firmly than is possible in any 
other way the sacredness of human reproduction and the 
dire consequences to future generations of wrong sexual 
conduct. 

"2. . . Sex instruction . . . must not seek to create 
interest and awaken curiosity in the subject with which it 
deals, but merely to satisfy the curiosity which spon- 
taneously arises in the child's mind by answering his 
questions truthfully, but only so completely as may be 
necessary to give proper guidance to his conduct, both 
hygienic and ethical. The less children and youth think 
of sex, and the later they mature sexually, the better 
both physiologically and ethically. Premature develop- 
ment of the sex consciousness and the sex feelings is 
harmful. ... 

"3. It follows, from the above principles, that detailed 
descriptions of external human anatomy are to be avoided, 
and that descriptions of internal anatomy should be limited 
to what is necessary to make clear and to impress the 
hygienic bearing of the facts to be taught. The details 
of human embryology . . . should likewise be avoided. 
In printed books and leaflets, cuts illustrating human 
anatomy should be avoided wherever possible, and if 
used at all should be limited to the absolutely essential 
facts, and be conventionalized f6r the purpose as much 
as scientific accuracy will pcnnit. . . . Danger to the 
movement might conceivably come from lack of judgment 
or excess of zeal on the part of its friends. 

"4. The purely scientific basis for such instruction 
must be laid in the biological nature study in elementary 
schools and in the more systematic instruction in biology 
and hygiene in secondary schools and colleges. 

"5. It must be supplemented by providing physical 
exercise; by insisting in the home on regular hours of 



96 T h c C h i I d 

sleep; by providing adequate facilites for play and whole- 
some amusements; by protecting children from the un- 
wholesome associations and corrupting influences of 
debasing shows and immoral literature; and by main- 
taining the confidence of children in their parents and 
teachers, so that signs of danger may be the more promptly 
detected. 

"6. The purely scientific instruction must be reinforced 
as strongly as possible by ethical instruction, both direct 
and indirect, with due regard to the maturity of those 
taught ... in secondary schools and colleges; and 
certain phases . . . in the upper classes of the elementary 
schools. Appeals to the sense of personal self-respect and 
purity and to the instinct of chivalry can be effectively 
made in the earliest years of adolescence, and even before. 
With relatively mature students the vast sociological 
bearings of the subject, with their ethical implications, 
can be effectively utilized. 

"Among the means of indirect ethical instruction for 
this purpose, the most effective is good literature. It is 
of immense consequence that during the adolescent 
years the pupils' minds be saturated with the great 
masterpieces both in poetry and prose, which deal with 
romantic love in its purest forms. Thoughts of sex and 
sex emotion must at this time be spiritualized and placed 
on the highest plane, and good literature is the most 
effective means to this end which is available in the 
public schools. Any kind of sex education which ignores 
the education of the emotions, is seriously defective. 
Deep intellectual interests, enthusiasm in art, or ardent 
devotion to some worthy practical cause, absorb the 
mind and furnish wholesome avenues for the expression 
of the emotions. Few conditions are so dangerous at 
this period as idleness, whether physical or mental, and 



Feelings and Ideas of Sex 97 

an absence of interest in things which appeal to the 
higher altruistic interests. 

"7. The value of physical exercise, especially in the 
fonn of play and athletic sport, in its bearing on the 
control of the sex instinct, is so generally recognized 
that it needs no special emphasis here. 

"8. . . The life of the pupil may be conveniently 
divided into four periods . . . on a basis of facts both 
physiological and psychological. 

"9. . . From one to six . . . the care of the child 
falls chiefly on the mother. ... In lectures on sex 
education given to mothers, special emphasis must be laid 
upon this period and proper instruction be given as to 
the care of the child's body. The danger . . . of an 
immature or injudicious nurse should be pointed out. 
Instruction should be given as to how the child's ques- 
tions relating to the origin of human life may best be 
answered. This is the only sex instruction a child needs 
during this first period. In addition to this, watchfulness 
over the child's habits and protection from tmtoward 
influences constitute the mother's chief duty. 

"10. . . From six to twelve . . . the school must 
share with the home the hygienic and moral care of the 
child; and as most parents are not qualified at present to 
give the necessary sex instruction to their children, this 
duty falls mainly upon the school. 

"Truthful and delicate answering of the child's ques- 
tions as to the origin of the individual human life, and 
instruction which will protect it from forming injurious 
sexual habits, constitute the chief features of sex in- 
struction during the early years of this period. ... At 
this period it is best given privately and should be care- 
fully adapted to the child's individual needs. . . . There 
should be given during the later years ... a carefully 



gS T h e C hil d 

planned series of lessons on reproduction in plants, as a 
part of the course in nature study . . . the various 
methods of fertilization and the necessity of fertilization, 
and he should be led up to the generalization that plant 
life always springs from plant life. 

"In like manner a series on animal life below mammals. 
. . . The origin of the chick, the fish, and the frog . . . 
of insects, and finally the necessity for fertilization . . . 
might form the chief general topics. . . . 

" The aim should be . . . to impress deeply the mind 
of the child with the beautiful and marvelous processes of 
nature by which life is reproduced from life .... It is 
not necessary and in most cases not desirable that chil- 
dren should make application of this knowledge to repro- 
duction in man before the beginning of adolescence, 
further than that the human infant is developed within 
the mother. But such instruction . . . will afterward 
invest reproduction in the higher animals and in man 
with a significance and dignity not otherwise attainable, 
and . . . will create the right emotional attitude toward 
human reproduction and prepare the child's mind to ap- 
preciate its sacredness." 

Instruction to children with injurious sex habits should 
be given privately. 

" 1 1. From twelve to sixteen, more facts on reproduction 
below mammals should lead up to mammals and to the 
generalization that animal life comes from the ovum. 
The simple facts of heredity and their application should 
be given, to show the importance of sexual morality. 
Girls should receive this instruction about a year earlier 
than boys, with special instruction on the hygiene of 
puberty. 

" 12. During all adolescence, emphasis should be laid on 
the parent's love and care of the young, the helplessness 



Feelings and Ideas of Sex gp 

of human* young, and how it has led to the pairing of 
couples and to the family; also on the ethical relations of 
the home, and the fact that every boy owes to every 
girl the same duty as he would expect from another boy 
to his own sister. 

"13. During adolescence children should understand 
not only the physical but the psychic, especially emotional 
changes through which they are passing. Lack of 
sympathy from the parents now often leads to alienation 
and loss of control. 

"14. Now there should be systematic ethical instruc- 
tion, of which the ethics of sex relations should form a part. 

"15. From sixteen on, there should be more complete 
instruction in heredity, immorality, and venereal diseases. 

"16. It is not desirable that there should be specially 
set lessons in sex instruction in schools, but such in- 
struction in all but exceptional cases should form a natural 
part of the courses in nature study, biology, hygiene, and 
ethics. 

"17. All instruction in reproduction in plants and in 
animals below mammals may be given in coeducational 
classes. ... In mammals . . . usually best . . . 
in separate classes; in human reproduction . . . always 
... in separate classes . . . and a teacher of their 
own sex. 

"18. Certain pupils will always need special instruction, 
and each class also should be carefully studied, and much 
left to the tact and judgment of the teacher. 

"19. . . It is not desirable that any teacher should 
make a specialty of this type of instruction and of no 
other. We do not w^ant 'sex specialists.' It is better that 
one of the regular corps of teachers . . . whom the 
pupils personally know and who has a firm moral hold 
on them, should give this instruction. 



I oo The Child 

"20. All nonnal schools and all departments of edu- 
cation in colleges and universities should provide the 
necessary courses to meet this need {i.e. how to give 
'sex instruction). 

"21. Sex instruction should be given in the regular 
evening schools. 

"22. Systematic courses at public expense should be 
given for parents. 

"23. Carefully adapted courses should be given in 
Y. M. C. A. and various types of boys' clubs." 

In conclusion, the committee emphasizes the impor- 
tance of introducing such courses anywhere with tact, 
and only when public sentiment will support them. 

REFERENCES 

General Accounts of the Sexual Nature 

Ellis, Havelock. Man and Woman. Scribner's. 409 pp. $1.25. 
Geddes and Thomson. Evolution of Sex. Scott, Lond., 1901, 342 

pp. $1.50. 
Hall, G. Stanley. Adolescence. 2 vols., 1904, Appleton. App. 

600 and 800 pp. $5.00. (By far the most important book 

on the subject. Much space is given to the psychological 

aspects.) 
Youth. Appleton, 1906, 379 pp. $1.50. (A resume of parts 

of Adolescence.) 
Hitschmann, Eduard. Freud's Theories of the Neuroses. Jour. 

Nerv. and Ment. Dis., Mon. series No. 17, N. Y., 1913, 154 pp. 

(The most important account in English of the Freudian 

theory of sex.) 
Marro, A. La Puberta. 1898, 507 pp. 
Moll, A. Sexual Life of the Child. Macmillan, 191 2, 336 pp. 

$175. (One of the very important contributions.) 
Northcote, Hugh. Christianity and Sex Problems. Davis Co.^ 

Phila., 1906, 257 pp. (One of the older books, but excellent 

in its general standpoint.) 
Thomas, I. W. Sex and Society. U. of Chicago Press, 1907, 

325 pp. (Shows the many ramifications of sex.) 



Feelings and Ideas of Sex loi 

Sex Instruction and Hygiene 

Dawson, E. C. The Book of Honor. Pilgrim Press, 1910, 192 pp. 

Education in Matters of Sex. Soc. of Soc. Hygiene, Chicago, 1907. 
Ten essays. (Good.) 

Ellis, Havelock. The Task of Social Hygiene. Lond., 1912, 414 pp. 

Foster, W. T. (ed.) *The Social Emergency, with Introd. by Charles 
W. Eliot. Houghton, Mifflin, 1914. $1.35. 

Hall, G. Stanley. The Pedagogy of Sex. Educational Problems. 
Sex Hygiene in Infantile and Prepubertal Life, 4th Int. 
Cong. School of Hygiene, 1913, Vol. II, pp. 10-16. Vol. I, 
388-540. 

Hall, Winfield S. The Conservation of the Child. The Child, 
Chicago, July 1913, 7-14. 

Morley, Margaret. Life and Love. McClurg, 1899, 214 pp. $1.25. 

The Song of Life. McClurg, 1897, 155 pp. $1.25. 

The Renewal of Life. McClurg, 1906, 200 pp. 

(These three little books are excellent both in manner and 

matter for parents who wish to learn how to present the facts 

of reproduction to their children. They are very simple 

and require no technical knowledge on the part of the reader.) 

Morrow, Prince A. The Relations of Social Diseases with Marriage, 
and their Prophylaxis. Pub. by American Society of Sanita- 
tion and Moral Prophylaxis. 72 pp. (Gives the prevalence 
of these diseases, and the proper hygienic measures to prevent 
their spread and to lead to cure. An authoritative statement.) 

Ravenhill, Alice. Eugenic Education for Women and Girls. King, 
1908, 24 pp. 

Sex Hygiene. Report of Committee of Matter and Methods of Sex 
Instruction, to the American Federation for Sex Hygiene. 
Goldman Co., N. Y., 1913, 34 pp. (The recommendations 
given here are the consensus of opinion of the best in- 
formed persons in this country along these lines. They must 
be considered as the most authoritative statement yet pre- 
pared.) 

[It will be noted that no references are given to books for children 
and youth. There are, almost literally, hundreds of such books 
on the market, many of them accurate as to their statements of fact. 
But those with experience arc questioning more and more the 
desirability of giving printed material to young people, at least below 
college age, unless the circumstances are exceptional. The American 
Federation for Sex Hygiene, 105 West Fortieth St., New York City, 



I02 The Child 

will give information as to short pamphlets suited to boys and 
girls, and will send its publications for a nominal price. It will 
also furnish facts about state and local organizations for sex 
hygiene. Its information is the most reliable attainable at present, 
and there is no danger that any one writing to it for assistance will 
be exploited.] 

Eugenics 

Davenport, C. B. Eugenics. Holt and Co., 1910, 35 pp. (Excel- 
lent.) 

Dawson, G. E. Right of Child to be Well Born. Funk and Wagnalls, 
1912, 144 pp. 

Ellis, Havelock. Problems of Race Regeneratioti. Lond., 191 1, 
70 pp. 

Eugenics, Problems in. Eugenics Ed. Soc, Lond., 1912, 486 pp. 

Eugenics, Twelve University Lectures. Dodd, Mead and Co., 191 4, 
342 PP- 

Ewart, Robert J. Aristocracy of Infancy. Eugenics Review, 
1911, 143-169. 

Jordan, D. L., The Heredity of Richard Roe. Boston, 191 1. 

Jordan, H. E. Rearing the Human Thoroughbred. Cleveland 
Med. Jour., Dec. 1912, 875-889. 

Kellicott, Wm. E. The Social Direction of Human Evolution. 
Appleton, 191 1, 240 pp. (Well written popular account.) 

Pearson, Karl. Groundwork of Eugenics. Lond., 1912. 
The Problem of Practical Eugenics. Lond., 1912. 

Saleeby, Caleb W. Parenthood and Race Culture. Lond., 1909, 
331 pp. (Also good popular account.) 

Tredgold, A. F. Eugenics and Future Human Progress. Eugenics 
Rev., 1911, 914-917. 

For new aspects of the eugenics movement, the Eugenics Rev., 
published quarterly by Eugenics Educational Society, 
London, is the best source of information, and in this 
country the Am. Soc. Hygiene Bull., pub. monthly from 
105 W. 40th St., New York City, 25 cents a year; 0/50 pub- 
lications of the Eugenics Record Office, Cold Spring Harbor, 
N. Y. 



CHAPTER VI 

Nature versus Nurture 

T N the Introduction the fact was emphasized that the 
-*- body and the mind of each individual child sum up 
or recapitulate the race experience, but that the later ex- 
periences of the race always react upon and modify the 
inheritance so that the individual at birth is not a bundle 
of instincts and feelings neatly arranged in order and 
labeled and tied up so that they cannot be mixed, but at 
first glance seems much more to resemble the disjecta 
membra scattered over a battle field. Much the same 
impression is gained by reading various recent attempts 
to describe this "original nature" or inheritance. 

In many cases we cannot even separate the work of 
nature from the effect of nurture, and a satisfactory 
classification of inherited tendencies, either from the 
standpoint of their present value or of their origin, is 
not to be looked for until we can first say whether they 
are inherited. At present lists must be admittedly in- 
complete and classifications admittedly tentative. 

Nevertheless, there is a margin of agreement, and we 
shall pick our way along this as best we can, indicating 
any deviations into the wilderness of speculation so that 
the wary reader need not follow unless he be of good 
courage. We shall attempt only to indicate certain 
important instinctive tendencies which, in their later de- 
velopment and modification, are educationally important. 

Probably the most fundamental aspect of psychical 
processes is their pleasure-pain aspect, together with the 

103 



104 The Child 

conscious states rising from movements toward or from 
the pleasure- or pain-bringing object. In its more corn- 
Pleasure- plicated forms of satisfaction, enjoyment, 
pain happiness, blessedness, and their opposites, 

this aspect becomes bound up with numerous others and 
becomes so varied that many students question whether 
it or the other factors are the motivation for action. 
The characteristic facial expressions of pleasure and pain 
are laughing and crying. Laughing probably is a relic 
of eating movements of satisfaction, while the expression 
in crying, the shrinking, and so on, originated in the 
attempt to draw away from the pain-giving object. In 
general, pleasure results in movements toward and pain 
in movements from. 

Hope and fear — the anticipation of pleasure or pain — 
are the derivatives of pleasure and pain, and the char- 
Hope and acteristic attitudes evoked by them are of 
fear the utmost significance in education. The 

child in the presence of an imknown factor or group of 
conditions at first is hesitant, uncertain, poised between 
hope and fear, with tendencies stronger in one or the other 
direction according to his past experience and the super- 
ficial aspect of the object in question. Racial experience 
has inbred a tendency to investigate new things unless 
they are immediately painful, and we express this by 
saying that children are naturally curious. They con- 
tinue to get closer to new objects, to touch, handle, and 
often to put them into their mouths, unless they get hurt. 
If the object can be pulled to pieces and put together 
again, or if it can be used to change other things with — 
that is, as a tool — -it may become the focus of many and 
often repeated activities. 

If, on the other hand, the object causes pain, the 
reaction later is some form of fear — caution, withdrawal, 



Nature versus Nurture 105 

and so on — but if the pain is not too great, and if the 
object has other qualities that make it desirable, the 
child is likely to plan some way of using it without 
getting the pain from it. 

Still another situation may arise which evokes very 
different reactions. If the object cannot be attained, 
greater desire is first aroused, together with disappoint- 
ment. There will be more violent movements toward 
it, probably decided expressions of chagrin, anger, or the 
like. The later course will depend greatly on the age and 
temperament of the child. He may simply give up the 
object, or he may devote himself to working out methods 
of attaining it. 

Some objects, forces, or persons, however, the child is 
not able to attain or control, and toward these still 
another attitude may appear — namely, that 
of awe. They are mysterious to him, some- 
times threatening and sometimes blessing, but always 
stronger than he and moved by springs which he does 
not understand. He hopes with fear, and fears with 
hope, and seeks how to propitiate. 

This fundamental attitude of curiosity toward the 
unknown, with its suggestive mingling of caution and 
desire, is the basis of the intellectual life. 
The learning process of primitive man was ^ 

the process of gratifying his curiosity, as is to-day the 
learning process of the inventor or the man engaged in 
original research. 

Probably the objects which first arouse curiosity, and 
which call it out most easily throughout life, are those 
which may be used for food. Bell has 
shown how large this class of objects is with °° ° ^^^ ^ 
little children to-day. Thorndike says that the general 
tendency to grasp small objects of all sorts is a relic of the 



io6 The Child 

food-getting instinct. Whether the love of bright objects 
has its root here is also a question which may be asked. 
The resulting movements are also numerous, widely varied, 
and in many instances not only instinctive but reflex. 
Most obvious, of course, are those focusing about the 
mouth — sucking, licking, biting, chewing, swallowing. 
But many of the movements of hand and arm develop 
in getting food to the mouth, and locomotion is largely 
motivated by the search for food. We see this more 
clearly in animals and among primitive men than among 
civilized men. The savage, fishing or hunting, obviously 
moves and uses his hands and his weapons for the sake of 
appeasing hunger. The weapons themselves — the sling, 
bow and arrow, fishing net, and so on — were short cuts 
to food getting, as well as, in some cases, to the destroy- 
ing of enemies. Again, the savage migrates in search of 
more food. The civilized man who is following a trade 
has at bottom this same motivation as the chief one, 
though beside it are many others which we shall touch 
upon soon. 

Things that will keep one warm or make one cold are 

other objects of perennial interest. Objects that may be 

wrapped about the body, or that give out 

Warmth and j^g^t, are very satisfying. Nooks and niches 
protection , , , m ■, ■ ■, 

m trees or rocks that keep oii the wmd not 

only have this virtue but also give a feeling of protection 
and safety which must probably be classed as another 
instinctive factor. Clothes and dwellings are the out- 
come of several such factors — of desires for warmth and 
shelter from weather, safety from wild animals and from 
human enemies, and also for the satisfying of the tendency 
to display oneself to the best advantage to others, to 
arouse in them approval, submission, and so on. 

Among the objects arousing instinctive fears are strange 



Nature versus N u r tur e 107 

men and animals, especially those which come toward 
us quickly; black places or holes, black things, and 
darkness ; thunder and lightning ; any loud or 
unexpected noise ; and solitude. What the ^^ ° ^^^ ^ 
nature of the response will be depends again upon the 
strength of the stimulus and the age of the child, as well 
as upon his education. It may be only flight, or shrink- 
ing and cowering; it may be fight and anger; or in the 
final outcome it may be some form of invention or 
research which gets rid of the feair-rousing condition. 
The latter is the outcome favored by right teaching; 
indeed, Stanley Hall goes so far as to say that most of 
science is simply learning to fear aright and to get rid of 
unnecessary fears. 

The objects most likely to arouse awe are the larger 
forces and objects of nature. The sky, sun, moon and 
stars, wind and weather, and unusual occurrences such as 
earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, eclipses, mountain peaks, 
great trees, animals with mysterious attributes rarely 
seen, and also men have all been objects of worship. On 
the other hand, natural objects and forces which lend 
themselves to man's needs for food, clothing, or shelter, 
which he can control and understand, are interesting 
in quite a different way. 

The instinctive attitudes toward other persons fall 

into at least three great classes, — those toward the 

opposite sex, toward the same sex, and 

toward the young, — but each of these is Social 

interests 
greatly complicated from the start by the 

family relationship. The attitudes of the unmarried man 

and woman toward the same and the opposite sex, as 

well as toward children, are very different from those of 

the married couple and of parents. 

As we noted above an instinctive fear of solitude, 



io8 T h e C h i I d 

here we note an instinctive satisfaction in being with 
others, a gregariousness, which in its most primitive ex- 
pression is the enjoyment of ph}'sical contact with others 
—the herding instinct with the sense of warmth and safety 
that goes with it. In the presence of another person 
there is an instinctive tendency first to attract his atten- 
tion, and then to show off or dominate him in some form. 
In its worse forms this becomes bullying, teasing, and 
cruelty; in its better, rivalry and emulation. But this 
domination by no means excludes an instinctive sym- 
pathy, which is especially easily called out by the sight 
of physical pain or hunger or cold. In fact, pity is itself 
a sort of domination, and therefore agreeable. 

It is easy to see in a general way how this gregarious- 
ness combines with hunger and fear to form men into 
communities, but to trace the details of the development 
would be the history of civilization written from a psy- 
chological standpoint, and this has not yet been done. 
Again, the various complications which lead to religion, 
art, science, play, and education offer fascinating vistas 
which we can merely indicate here. All of these, again, 
are greatly intensified by their complications with the 
sex and the parental instincts. 

Let us outline, now, rather schematically the child's 
development, indicating roughly how these instinctive 
bases of education appear at various stages of develop- 
ment. 

For the first two months of his life, we may fairly 
say that the baby's chief interest is in what goes into 
Interests ^i^ mouth. Not only are the lips and the 
of babyhood tongue the parts most sensitive to touch, 
but touch is relatively more developed than are other 
senses. Hearing is imperfect and sight is short and un- 
controlled. The arms and legs are not under control for 



Nature versus Nurture 109 

grasping and creeping, so that the baby must perforce 
wait for what comes his way. Furthermore, he spends 
a large part of his day in sleep. What little display of 
anger he makes is when he does not get his food promptly. 
So the baby is a dimly-seeing, dimly-hearing little crea- 
ture, sleeping much of the time and conscious chiefly of 
the satisfaction of food. 

During the third month, however, with more distinct 
seeing and the rise of memory, comes a marked interest 
in seeing things. Now the baby holds his head up, 
twists his head and body to see things, and studies each 
thing about him, learning it in its various appearances. 
The interest in suckable objects continues and is strong, 
but its prominence is relatively less because visible 
objects have now become so interesting. 

From the fourth to the sixth month, both of these 
interests continue, and are fed and supplemented by 
the great interest in graspable objects. Grasping and 
sucking; seeing and grasping; seeing, grasping, and 
sucking are now combined and find their satisfaction 
in superlatively interesting, seeable, graspable, and suck- 
able objects. 

The craving of the growing limbs for more exercise 
results in creeping and later in walking, with the wide 
range of new activities and interests thus made possible. 

Into this little world enter fear and shrinking also, 
anger, fighting and jealousy, nearly all of them connected 
with persons, and the numerous satisfactions connected 
with the mother. With the infant the satisfaction of 
hunger and of gregariousness, the getting of food and 
of cuddHng and warmth, as they are always associated, 
are probably never differentiated until he begins to eat 
solid food. The baby's world is never predominantly 
a world of things, even when food is his chief interest. 
8 



no T h e C hi I d 

It is a social world — to which he zealously adapts him- 
self from the beginning. Various observers have noted 
how soon a baby learns to know his mother's anus, and 
how early she may establish almost any habits she pleases 
as to ways of holding, associations with food, and so on. 

Between the fifth and sixth months a baby begins to 
repeat many of the movements going on about him. A 
little later come babbling and the foreshadowing of 
speech. How far this is due to an instinct of imitation 
and how far to the spontaneous rise of certain tendencies 
and the effect of practice is a matter of dispute. 

During the first year and a half, then, the baby's in- 
terests are first and chiefly those of food and persons, 
and second, those of controlling the sense organs and 
the body in general, but especially the organs of loco- 
motion and grasping. By the end of this time he can 
usually walk, has. begun to talk, and can use his five 
senses with a fair degree of accuracy, though he still is 
lacking in control in many respects. 

From the acquisition of speech to the beginning of the 

second dentition, the interests of babyhood are still 

strong, but are shown in more attention to 
Int6r6sts 
of early the details of the activities. The child now 

childhood jj^gg ^q p^^y games that test the sharpness 
of the senses; he likes to experiment with new move- 
ments—to walk on tiptoe, to skip and dance, to play 
finger games, to draw, to string beads, and so on. 

His interest in persons is even greater than before. 
His plays at this time are very largely imitative. He 
imitates persons more than he does anything else. He 
personifies all sorts of inanimate objects, and the only 
cause he knows is a personal one. Through his interest 
in imitating persons he enters into the race interests 
which are going on about him^ — learns in a crude way 



NaturevcrsusNurture 1 1 1 

how we get our food and so on. His interest in language 
persists in various forms, such as his deHght in nonsense 
rimes and his persistent desire to name all the objects he 
sees. His love of rhythm is also prominent and is closely 
connected with the increasing control of his movements. 

During the latter part of this period some new and 
strong interests arise. As memory and imagination 
develop they introduce the child to another world which 
he finds that he can change to suit himself, while he 
cannot so alter the world of his senses. The love of 
power which in his babyhood was gratified by his new 
control of his body, now finds another source of gratifica- 
tion in this mental play. We find him, therefore, listen- 
ing to and inventing tales of marvel and mystery. 

The rise of an interest in causes at this time also leads 
to wonderings and questionings and to speculations 
sometimes startling in their shrewdness. With many 
children there also seems to be an interest in enumeration 
and in quantities, as seen in the love of counting and in 
the comparisons of size. 

In the little child, then, up to the beginning of the 
second dentition, the interests are to a large extent 
confined to his delight in the feeling of his own activities 
and of his increasing control of them. On the physical 
side this appears in his enjoyment of plays that exercise 
his senses, in his practice of all movements that are a 
little difficult for him, and in his use of rhythm and of 
nonsense rimes. On the mental side it appears in his 
love of imagining and inventing, in his counting and 
measuring, and in his ceaseless questioning. The union 
of the two and also the growth of his social interests 
are marked above all by his love of imitation, the most 
characteristic interest of this period. 

In these early years the interests are, on the whole, 



112 T h c C h 1 1 d 

immediate. The child enjoys the action for its own sake 
without much reference to any end. Little children who 
are playing "Pom pom pullaway," for instance, may for- 
get all about the goal in the delight of running, and end 
the game in a chase. So, also, a little fellow begins to 
draw the story of the Three Bears, gets interested in 
making the bear, and covers his paper with bears. The 
movement or activity is what he enjoys. He does not 
care for making some thing so much as he does for going 
through the movements of making. On this account a 
little child is usually easily diverted from one thing to 
another, if only the new thing allows the same general 
movements as the old. 

Educationally, this is the period when interests can 
be given a more definite and pennanently valuable form 
if the parent or teacher provide the materials for the 
child to work with, and surround him with a life that is 
worth the imitation. 

The period from seven to twelve years of age seems to 
contain at least two distinct subdivisions. From about 
J . seven to nine there is a rapid growth of 

of later connections between the parts of the brain, 

childhood ^^^ ^^ ^j^g mental and emotional sides this 
is marked by a broadening of interests in various directions. 
Its character is perhaps best seen in the child's plays. 
They are individualistic, demand much motor activity, 
and are to large degree suggestive of primitive race 
activities. The child enjoys the use of tools, and can 
adapt means to ends over a wider range than before. 
There are vivid interests in natural phenomena and 
forces, in pets, collections, in what can be done with 
stones and sticks, strings, and like objects. Religious 
interests are in the Old Testament more than in the New, 
and in individual heroes. The world of adults is farther 



Nature versus Nurture 113 

removed from the child than before, and even the attitude 
toward other children is more that of distrust and com- 
petition than of cooperation and confidence. In the 
latter part of this period boys and girls are more alike 
than at any other, and both seem to reach a period of 
relative adaptation and stability for a year or two before 
the onset of puberty. Hall calls the entire period a 
savage if not a half animal one, in which the child should 
come into close contact with natural forces and phenom- 
ena on all sides of his nature. He ought to have the 
opportunity to dig caves, live in tents, migrate in 'the 
form of excursions, go on tramping trips or the like, 
make collections, invent tools, hunt and fish, plant and 
reap, spin, weave and sew, build, and so on. Morally 
he is not much developed save in the sense of conformity 
to custom, and religiously he is more likely to be the 
victim of superstitions than to be given over to faith. 
These interests evidently have important educational 
bearings. Thus a beginning can be made in history and 
science, the idea being to find out how people interests in 
under certain conditions would be obHged to the "how" 
live, how they would be obliged to get food and clothing, 
and so on. This interest in the "how" of things. Dr. 
Dewey warns us, however, is of slow growth. It arises 
in about this order, he thinks : reading, writing, numbers, 
science, history, and literature. That is, a child first sees 
the advantage of knowing how to read and is interested in 
learning words and sentences before he sees the use of 
learning how to write. His first interest in science and 
in history is the same as the little child's — the dehght in 
activity and in a good story, but a little later he begins 
to experiment in science and to reason from cause to 
effect in history. The interest in why has become 
replaced by a curiosity as to how things are done. In 



114 T h e C hi I d 

order to hold this interest in the "how" a child must 

also have experiences that make the "how" of use to 

him, and he must have some end that he himself wishes 

to reach. This point is too often neglected by teachers. 

They think that if they themselves see the end, it is 

sufficient. But if the child does not know what he is 

working for, how can he be long interested? Or even if 

he is curious, how can he work at the adapting of his 

material to what he is making? 

To find out what children's interests are, a series of 

observations was made by Binet, Earl Barnes, and Shaw 

in this manner: They made out a list of 

Observa- common words and asked the children to 
tions 

tell them what the thing was which was 

named. The children were taken separately, so that 

they could not imitate each other. They were asked no 

questions and given no suggestions, but left to state 

their thoughts themselves. Left thus, it was believed 

that the children would describe the object according to 

their greatest interest in it. The list of words was as 

follows : 



knife 


mamma 


earthworm 


bread 


potatoes 


shoes 


doll 


bottle 


finger 


water 


flour 


lock 


armchair 


snail 


horse 


hat 


mouth 


wolf 


garden 


lamp 


omnibus 



All three observers found that the children were most 
interested in what they could do with a thing, or in its 
use to than. The great majority of them defined the 
words from this personal point of view. For example: 
"A mamma is to kiss me good night"; "A lamp is to 
give me light." 



Nature versus Nurture 115 

Next to use, they were interested in things that had 
action or movement. They showed very little interest 
in the structure or substance of things, and _ 

less than two per cent were interested in in color 

form. Only three per cent were interested ^^^ ^'^^ 

in color, but the very small percentage in both these 
cases may be because the words given do not call up these 
ideas. Very few of the objects mentioned usually have 
any such coloring or structure as would attract attention. 
At the same time, it is true that children have little 
general aesthetic interest in the color of pictures. It is 
safe to say that practically all children prefer colored 
pictures to black and white. They also choose pictures 
which they call "cunning," or "sweet" in preference to 
the masterpieces. A mother and child is usually pre- 
ferred to a madonna, and pictures of children, kittens, 
and puppies in playful antics mean much more than other 
pictures. Natural and lifelike pictures are preferred to 
ideal ones, and those that represent activity of some sort 
to those of quiet scenes. In all this we get again the 
same truths: childish interests are in the personal and 
active sides of life. 

As the children grow older, they define the terms less 
according to the personal use, and more by putting them 
into a larger class. Their concepts become more prom- 
inent, and the central idea stronger. Formerly it was 
supposed that reason — of which the idea of cause and 
effect is a prominent part- — did not develop until the 
age of fourteen or fifteen at least, but we understand now 
that it is of as long and gradual growth as our other 
mental powers. Nearly all children ask "why" before 
they are four years old, and this interest is a constant 
one, although it is by no means the most prominent one 
until maturity, if it is at that time. 



1 1 6 T h c C h ild 

Another way in which children's interests have been 
observed is to find out what stories from their Readers 
J they remember best. Nineteen hundred and 

in school fifty grade children have been questioned on 
Readers ^.j^jg point with rather startling results. It 

was found to begin with that 44 per cent of the pieces in 
four Readers, or nearly half, were remembered after one 
term by only 5 per cent of the children. Almost half of 
the material in these Readers was uninteresting, and this 
was to a very large extent the instructive and moral parts. 
The first lesson in each Reader was remembered, and 
.also the long or continued lessons. Those best remem- 
bered are, as we should expect, those which are especially 
natural, and which appeal to the child through expe- 
riences similar to his own. We find, for example, that 
32 per cent of the children remember stories of life best, 
and 12 per cent those of animals. Seven and one-half 
per cent give allegiance to stories with morals, 56 per 
cent to stories of heroism, and only two per cent to in- 
structive stories. At first the liking for poetry is simply 
enjoyment of rhythm, and not until adolescence does 
it begin to be enjoyed as literature. Of course these 
interests were greatly influenced by the way the stories 
were told. 

The Readers were, if we remember correctly, those 
in the state textbook series of Indiana, and were con- 
sidered to be about the average. 

G. Stanley Hall's Contents of Children's Minds is 
also a book of great interest here as showing how little 
many of our school Readers appeal to a 
Dr. Hall's child's own experience. Dr. Hall's list of 
words was obtained in large part from First 
Readers, and the children's ignorance, as shown, is truly 
amazing. 



Nature versus Nurture 117 

Out of 113 objects, 

90% are ignorant of 7 of them; 

80 to 90% " " " 14 " " 

70 to 80% " " " 10 " " 

60 to 70% " " " 21 " " 

50 to 60% " " " 17 " 

making an average of over 60 per cent of the children 
who know nothing of the meanings of over half the words. 

With regard to the regular school subjects, observa- 
tions have also been made on two thousand children 
above third grade. Arithmetic, history, geography, and 
spelling are by far the most popular studies, in the order 
named. Drawing, music, and nature study cannot 
compete with them. Probably, however, these do not 
show the natural interests of children, but rather are due 
to the conditions of this particular school. It is stated 
that drawing, for instance, is not much emphasized, and 
again, it is very true that the teacher's interest controls 
the child's more or less. If there were a good arithmetic 
teacher and a poor drawing teacher, the child's interest 
might be just the reverse of his natural interests. 

The language interest is small during the first part of 
this period but seems to revive in the latter part in the 
secret languages which we shall mention later. This 
seems to indicate the advantage of beginning the study 
of foreign languages at this time. 

The interest in the use of the senses is at least undi- 
minished, while the love of movement is much increased. 
The games of this period call for a far greater amount of 
muscular strength than before. 

The interest in persons becomes stronger, and now the 
child delights in a history that describes heroic deeds. 

In all cases an important difference exists between 
this period and the previous one, namely, that the child 



ii8 The Child 

more and more, if given the opportunity, plans ways 
and means of reaching an end. The little child does 
this to a very limited extent. This and the greater 
variety of interests of the later period are due to the 
rapid growth of association fibers in the brain. 

Finally, with the advent of puberty, and the last 

period of rapid brain growth, the child enters upon the 

last educational period. The period is now 

Interests usually estimated to last to the time when 

bodily growth is complete, at about the 

twenty-fifth year. 

On the side of interest this period is not so much char- 
acterized by the rise of new interests as by the broaden- 
ing and deepening of those already existent. The senses 
become more active and consequently there is a keener 
interest in observation of all kinds, in nature, and in 
science. The rapid development of the muscular system 
in bo3^s results in the athletic craze. The wider develop- 
ment of reason appears in the doubts and questionings 
about the various systems of thought that the youth 
finds embodied in the school system, the political system, 
the religious system, and all the other systems. 

The most notable development of the period is doubt- 
less the growth of the interest in persons which comes as 
the direct result of the sexual development of this age. 
The child now for the first time enters fully into his 
social inheritance, feeling the bonds which connect him 
with others and desiring the responsibilities and privileges 
of all adults. The moral law now appeals to him as a 
need of his own nature, and the obligation to do good for 
its own sake now becomes binding. In numerous ways 
his own individual self is yielded to his social self, in ways 
both tragic and comic ^ in the devotion to dress and 
manners as well as in the abandonment to religious 



Nature versus Nurture 119 

exaltation. It is hardly stating it too strongly to say that 
the key to the adolescent is his interest in living up to 
what he conceives to be the social demands upon him. 
Control of him lies to a large extent, therefore, in control- 
ling his conceptions of what these social demands are, 
and this is not a matter that begins only with adolescence. 

We have had occasion to remark many times before 
that social habits must be inculcated from the begin- 
ning, and we can now see the importance of 
this. The youth who has now awakened Qf early 
to a vivid interest in his relations to others social 
has his sense of what these relations should 
be determined in part by the social habits which he has 
already acquired, and in part by the customs of the 
particular people with whom he is now thrown. Where 
the two sets of customs disagree, as is often the case, the 
child's consciousness of his own ambiguous position is 
very keen, and he brings all his judgment and reason to 
bear upon his decisions as to what he should do. Now 
he is fortunate if his social habits and his training in 
independent judgment are such that he can trust to his 
habits for all the smaller details of deportment and devote 
himself to the question of what his ideal shall be for the 
vital questions of life. 

In the shaping of this ideal or interest, as we have 
already said, we must call into play all the influences of 
surroundings — books, pictures, and so on — but more im- 
portant than any of these to the adolescent is the wise 
and untiring friendship of some older person, teacher or 
parent. Fortunate is the youth whose father and mother 
are his best friends — and sadly lacking in some respect 
are the parents who have not kept close enough to their 
children to be their best friends. 

We hear a great deal of talk about the importance 



I20 



The Child 



of keeping children interested. Unless children like a 
school duty, a task, a dress, or a certain kind of food, 
Training and ^^ i^ assumed that they ought not to be 
interests bothered with it. It is claimed they must 

follow their interests; that is, apparently, their caprices. 
What right have we to impose our likes on them ? They 
surely should be as free as others to express their whole 
nature without let or hindrance. 

On the other side there are still advocates of the idea 
that the natural man is full of evil desires, so that the 
very fact that a child wants a thing is one good reason 
why he should not have it. Moreover, say these duty 
lovers, life is full of disagreeable things that must be 
done.' No one can succeed who does not learn to do 
cheerfully tasks that he dislikes. All progress is made 
only by pain and suffering in giving up our natural 
desires and in struggling toward our ideal, which we 
see is right but do not yet love. Therefore, say these 
stern teachers, the truest kindness consists in training 
our children to do work that they do not like. We 
should not appeal to their interests, but rather to the 
right, and lead them to make their interests agree with 
what is right. The happiness of a child is of very Httle 
account if only he be led into the paths of righteousness. 
So hold the two extremes. Probably the majority of 
parents and teachers hold a middle ground, not believing 
that the child should be either wholly indulged or wholly 
thwarted, and indulging or thwarting according to their 
own particular Hkes. The mother who likes cabbage and 
does not like tomatoes, will usually feed her child the 
same way. The father who never lies, but finds it easy 
to criticize or backbite his neighbor, will probably rebuke 
falsehood but let backbiting go unscathed. The parent 
who dislikes arithmetic and enjoys history finds it easy to 



Nature versus Nurture 121 

condone his child's stupidity in the first but not in the 
second. In all cases we seem to lack any standard by 
which we judge whether or not a given trait in our child 
should be encouraged, whether or not he should be given 
freedom to develop his own natural self. 

Now it is unquestionably a difficult thing to know 
what we shall do in any given case. On the one side, 
we want our children to grow up good citizens, good 
members of the family, and seekers after righteousness. 
On the other, we do not want them to be confined, fear- 
ful, distrustful of self; we wish them to live a broad, free 
life, to feel the swing and delight of power, and to live 
with force and vigor. Between the two we stand puzzled. 

If what we have said of social recapitulation be true, 
a child is at birth a bundle of strong but 
vague impulses and instincts that have come gsts vs. indi- 
to him from numberless ancestors, that press yidual 

intf*rpst^ 

him into constant action in this way and 

in that, and that cause great unhappiness and dwarfed 

development if repressed. 

We have had very elaborate theories worked out of 
these race-stages or culture-epochs, through which each 
child passes, and the proper studies for him at each 
stage, but such theories cannot be said to have scientific 
value. We cannot say that because the race has gone 
through a certain stage, therefore the child must go 
through it. We must instead study children, both in- 
dividually and collectively, to see what race-stages they 
do repeat in fact, and the longer this study goes on, the 
more certain it is that only certain steps of race-progress 
are repeated in the individual. 

Still further, the fact that a child is in a certain cul- 
ture-epoch does not mean that he must have only liter- 
ature of that epoch to nourish his mind. It meang 



12 2 T }i c C h i I d 

rather that he is interested in the prominent activity 
of that period, and wants to go through that activity 
himself in the rough. 

It would be strange indeed if these impulses were 
either entirely good or entirely bad. They are all sur- 
vivals of a ruder civilization, and their value must be de- 
termined not merely by their antiquity but by their 
adaptability to present-day conditions. The habitual 
criminal is looked upon to-day as a person whose inter- 
ests belong in the ages w^hen violence was necessary to 
self-preservation; but these interests are not suited to 
civilized life, and so their possessor must give them up, 
or go to dwell among barbarians, or be confined in prison. 
As a rule, however, these instincts and impulses are 
fluent enough to take the usual social channels. It is 
the task of the parent and teacher to provide outlets 
which will utilize these streams of energy, instead of 
damming them. 

The training of interests consists, then, primarily in 
directing impulse and instinct to a worthy end, by all 
_. . means — suggestion, good surroundings, stim- 

better than ulation of curiosity, and so on. If an im- 
repression pulse can be so employed as to contribute 
to the family life, the best possible thing is done. If 
conditions do not allow of this, the parents can at least 
take a rational attitude toward the children, instead of 
assuming that all the children want is to make trouble. 
We find, for instance, that as a rule parents are decidedly 
opposed to their boys digging caves. Under the usual 
conditions, where the cave is made a rendezvous for 
smoking and reading dime novels, there is a good reason 
for objection. But arc such conditions necessary ? Surely 
not. So again, little children who run away do it 
usually because their own yard is so small and their 



Nature versus Nurture 123 

companions are so few that they cannot resist temptation. 
Instead of forbidding them the freedom, we should rather 
exert our ingenuity to make the freedom safe, for through 
such wanderings a child acquires valuable independence, 
gets a sense of direction and distance, and makes his 
first venture into the social world outside the home. 

In general, then, we may say that we should not con- 
demn a child's impulses unless they are of such a defi- 
nite, fixed, and base nature as to work decided harm to 
himself or others. We should not try to repress impulses 
so much as to direct them into useful channels by sug- 
gesting to the children definite and valuable ends to 
be accomplished. 

The growing appreciation of this truth has led within 
the last ten years to the systernatizing of vocational 
guidance and the establishment of vocational 
bureaus, as well as to considerable discussion 
as to the best way of developing and encouraging talent 
and genius. It is altogether probable, Gesell thinks, 
that the average attainment of children in school is 
below the normal attainment because of our wasteful 
methods and the failure to take advantage of natural 
interests and instincts. Such writers as Berle and Sidis, 
who have attained remarkable results with their own 
children, emphasize the same points. Whether or not 
most normal children could be ready for college at twelve 
or thirteen may be left an open question, without our 
disputing that our educational methods are extremely 
wasteful and that our methods of dealing with exception- 
ally bright children are stupid to the last degree. De- 
fective and delinquent children have the most expensive 
education in the world. Talented children usually have 
to make their way against inertia if not opposition. 

Vocational guidance in its wider sense should deal 



124 The Child 

with such children of genius as well as with normal and 

defective children, but, unfortunately, the tendency has 

been to narrow the term to finding p.osi- 

Vocational tions for children who leave the grammar 
guidance . ° 

grades. Bloomfiela considers the .problem 

almost entirely from the side of what trades are open to 
children and what are the wages, conditions of work, 
and so on, in those trades. But more important than 
this, from the standpoint of the child's development and 
his permanent service to the community, is the question 
of what occupation his own individual ability and in- 
terests best fit him for. Instead of merely round and 
square holes there are holes of all shapes and sizes, and 
to find the shape of the child's mind and the occupation 
corresponding to it is by no means a simple matter, 
especially when complicated by the fact that the child 
must usually choose from the occupations of his own 
town and is usually under the financial necessity of 
doing something. 

The question of tests of intelligence, therefore, comes 
up here from another standpoint. How far can we as- 
certain what qualities are necessary for a given trade, 
and how far can we give a child tests to discover whether 
or not he has those qualities? It is simple enough to 
test for color blindness, and to shut out a color-blind man 
from train service. Can we similarly test a boy who 
wants to become a civil engineer, or a girl who wants 
to specialize as a buyer of laces or furs? Miinsterberg 
believes that even now we can to some degree do this. 
For example, we can give tests for telephone operators 
which will show whether the candidates have a certain 
power of auditory attention necessary for an operator. 
Similarly, artificial conditions can be arranged, he be- 
lieves, which will test out motormen. So, in the course 



Nature versus Nurture 125 

of time, tests can be arranged for all callings, and those 
taking the tests will be automatically sorted out. 

Much waste will be prevented if this ever can be done, 
and it is to be hoped that those now working out tests 
will be as successful as they desire. At the same time, 
we can never afford to forget that the character of the 
whole man is rarely called out by tests under artificial 
conditions, and that the reserve qualities are those that 
lead to success or failure when the time of trial arrives. 
In callings where this or that sense organ must be used in 
fine discrimination, tests are very valuable, but when 
interest and judgment are the chief factors involved, 
the difficulty is tremendous of getting tests that will 
call them out as the real situation does, however willing 
the subject may be. Nevertheless, such tests are worth 
working for. 

REFERENCES 

The Psychology of Childhood 

This list includes books which discuss various aspects of child 
nature and training. They can be used to good advantage to 
supplement the textbook. In many instances they have sections on 
the subjects discussed in the following chapters of this book, and 
should be referred to. It has seemed desirable to include not only 
the more voluminous and scientific references here but also some of 
those written especially for mothers and teachers. 
Baldwin, J. Mark. Mental Development: Social and Ethical Impli- 
cations. Macmillan, 1902, 606 pp. $2.60. (A discussion 
of the effect of society upon the individual.) 
Brockbank, E. M. Children, their Care and Management. Lond., 

1912, 259 pp. (Simple and good.) 
Chamberlain, A. F. The Child and Childhood in Folk Thought. 
Macmillan, 1896, 464 pp. Bibliog. of 30 pp. 
The Child: A Study in the Evolution of Man. Scott, 1903, 
498 pp. Bibliog. of 30 pp. (These two books summarize 
effectively a large amount of literature upon the parallelisms 
between child nature and savage and primitive man.) 



126 T h e C hi Id 

Claparede, Ed. Experimental Pedagogy. Trans, of 4th ed. Long- 
mans, 191 1, 332 pp. Bibliog. (Discusses especially history, 
methods, and fatigue.) 

Colvin, S. S. Practical Results in . . . Educational Psychol- 
ogy. Sch. Rev., May 1913, 307-322. 
The Learning Process. Macmillan, 191 1, 336 pp. 

Colvin and Bagley. Human Behavior. Macmillan, 1913, 336 pp. 
$1.00. 

Compayre, G. Intellectual and Moral Development of the Child 
Appleton, 1 896- 1 902, 2 vols. 
Development of the Child in Later Infancy. Appleton, 1902 
300 pp. 

Davids, Eleanor. Notebook of an Adopted Mother. Dutton, 1903 
259 pp. (Good.) 

Drummond, W. B. Introduction to Child Study. Lond., 1907 
348 pp. 

DuBois, Patterson. Fireside Child Study. N. Y., 1903, 159 pp 
(Very simple. Intended for untrained mothers.) 
Point of Contact in Teaching. 1908, 131 pp. 

Education, Paid Monroe's Cyclopedia of. Three volumes now out. 

Groszmann, M, P. E. Career of the Child. Badger, 191 1, 335 pp. 

Gulick, Luther H. Mind and Work. Doubleday, 1908, 201 pp. 

Hall, G. Stanley. Adolescence. Appleton, 1904, 2 vols. App. 600 

and 800 pp. $5.00. (Contains numerous summaries and 

references to work in child study. See Index.) 

Educational Problems. Appleton, 191 1, 2 vols. App. 700 pp. 

each, $5.00. (Most complete resume of recent movements.) 

Hall, et al. Aspects of Child Life and Education. Ginn, 1907, 
326 pp. (Includes papers on contents of children's minds, 
daydreams, curiosity and interest, sandpile, dolls, collecting 
instinct, ownership, fetishism, and boy life in a Massachusetts 
town forty years ago.) 

Henderson, C. H. Education and the Larger Life. Houghton, 
Mifflin, 1902, 386 pp. 

Key, Ellen. Century of the Child. Putnam, 1909, 339 pp. 

King, Irving. Psychology of Child Development. U. of Chicago 
Press, 1903, 265 pp. 

Kirkpatrick, E. A. Genetic Psychology. Macmillan, 1909, 373 pp. 
(Emphasizes the instinctive basis of education.) Editor 
of Studies in Development and Learning. Arch, of Psy., 
1909, loi pp. (Miscellaneous studies.) 



Nature versus Nurture 127 

Lay, W. A. Experimentelle Didaklik. 3d. ed. Leipzig, 1910, 661 

pp^ (Summarizes work on the various school subjects.) 
McKeever, Wm. A. Farm Boys and Girls. Macmillan, 19 12, 

326 pp. 
Macmillan, Margaret. Early Childhood. Swan, Lend., 1900, 

211 pp. (Good.) 
Mangold, Geo. B. Child Problems. Macmillan, 1910, 381 pp. 
Meumann, Ernst. Vorlesungen zur Einfiihrung in die Experimentelle 

Pddagogik. Enlarged and revised ed. Engelmann, Leipzig, 

191 1. (This is the great German reference book for 

practically all phases of child study.) 
Monahan, A. Rural Education in the United Stales. Wash. Gov. 

Print., 1913, 72 pp. 
Mumford, Edith. The Dawn oj Character. Longmans, 1910, 225 pp. 

(Good, especially on the moral aspects.) 
O'Shea, M. V. Education as Adjustment. Longmans, 1903, 317 pp. 
Parmelee, Maurice. Science 0^ Human Behavior . Macmillan, 19 13, 

445 pp. (Moral aspects especially.) 
Partridge, Geo. E. Genetic Philosophy of Education. Sturgis and 

Walton, 1912, 401 pp. (An excellent epitome of G. Stanley 

Hall's educational writings, with a list of them.) 
Pearson, E. L. The Believing Years. Macmillan, 191 1, 303 pp. 
Perez, B. First Three Years of Childhood. Bardeen, 1889, 294 pp. 

$1.50. 
L education des le berceau. 1888, 320 pp. 
L' enfant de trois a sept ans. 1888, 307 pp. 
Plaisted, Laura L. Early Education of Children. Clarendon 

Press, 1909, 398 pp. 
Pyle, W. H. Educational Psychology. Warwick and York, 191 1, 

254 PP- 
Richmond, Ennis. The Mind of a Child. Longmans, 1901, 176 pp. 

$1.00. 
Rusk, R. R, Introduction to Experimental Education. Long- 
mans, 191 2, 303 pp. (Contains much of material from 

Meumann.) 
St. John, E. P. Child Nature and Child Nurture. Pilgrim Press, 

191 1, 106 pp. (Very simple.) 
Schreiber, Adele (ed.). Das Buck vom Kinde. Teubner, 1907, 2 

vols, in I. (An important resume of work in child study.) 
Schulze, Rudolph. Aus de Werkstattder Experimentelle Psychologie. 

Leipzig, 1909, 292 pp. (Eng. trans, by R. Pintner, 



128 The Child 

Experimental Psychology and Pedagogy. Macmillan, 19 12, 

364 PP-) 
Sisson, E. O. Essentials of Character. Macmillan, 1910, 209 pp. 
Starch, D. Experiments in Educational Psychology. Macmillan, 

191 1, 183 pp. 
Sully, James. Studies 0} Childhood. Appleton, 1900, 525 pp. 

$2.50. (An excellent discussion of child nature.) 
Swift, Edgar J. Mind in the Making. Scribner's, 1908, 329 pp. 
Youth and the Race. Scribner's, 1912, 342 pp. (Good presen- 
tations from the genetic standpoint.) 
Thorndike, E. L. Educational Psychology. Vol. I, The Original 

Nature of Man. Teacher's Coll., Columbia U. Pub., 1913, 

318 pp. (An attempt to list and to describe the unlearned 

tendencies of man.) 
Tracy, F. Psychology of Childhood. Heath, 7th rev. ed., 1909, 

219 pp. $1.20. 
Urwick, W. E. The Child's Mind, its Growth and Training. Lond., 

1907, 269 pp. 
Washburne, Marion F. Study of Child Life. Am. School Home 

Economics, Chicago, 1907, 183 pp. (Deals especially with 

the baby. Simple and practical.) 

Studies of Individual Children 

Ament, Wilhclm. Die Entwicklung vom Sprechen und Denken beim 

Kinde. Leipzig, 1899, 213 pp. 
Buchner, M. Entwicklung der Cemutsbewegungen im ersten Lebens- 

jahre. Langensalza, Beyer, 1909, 19 pp. 
Chamberlain, A. F. and Isabel. Studies of a Child. Ped. Sent., 

1904, 1905, and Mar. 1909. 
Cramaussel, Ed. Le premier eveil intellectuel de I'enfant. 2d ed. 

Alcan, Paris, 1910, 200 pp. 
Darwin, Charles. Biographical Sketch of an Infant. Mind, 1877, 

285-294. 
Dearborn, G. W. N. Moto-Sensory Development. Bait., 1910, 

215 pp. (Good.) 
Egger, A. E. Sur le developpement de rintelligetice et du langage. 

Picard, 1887, 102 pp. 
Espinas, A. Obs. sur un nouveau-ne. Ann. de la Fac. des Lettres 

de Bordeaux, 1883. 
Groszmann, M. P. E. Study of Individual Children. 19 12, 76 pp. 



Nature versus Nurture 129 

Hall, Mrs. Winfield S. First Five Hundred Days of a Child's Life. 

C. S. M., Vol. II, 1897. (Accurate, brief record.) 
Hogan, Louise. Study of a Child. Harper, 1898, 219 pp. 
Lobisch, J. E. Enlwicklungsgeschichte der Seele des Kindes. 1851. 
Major, David R. First Steps in Mental Growth. Macmillan, 

N. Y., 1906, 360 pp. 
Moore, Kathleen Carter. Mental Development of a Child. Psy. 

Rev., Monog. Sup. No. 3, 1896. (Excellent.) 
Partridge, Geo. E. Outline of Individual Development. Sturgis 

and Walton, 191 1, 240 pp. (Suggestions for observation.) 
Preyer, Wilhelm. Development of the Intellect. Appleton, 1898, 

317 PP- 
Senses and Will. Appleton, 1899, 346 pp. 
The Infant Mind. Appleton, 1889, 317 pp. 
(The first two books give the most detailed individual study 
that has yet been made, and have been the basis of all fol- 
lowing ones. The last is a brief resume of the others.) 
Scupin, E. and Mrs. G. Bubi's Erste Kindheit. Grieben, Leipzig, 
1907, 264 pp. 
Bubi im 4 bis 7 Lebensjahre. Grieben, Leipzig, 1910, 272 pp. 
Shinn, Milicent W. Biography of a Baby. Houghton, Mifflin, 
1900, 247 pp. (A delightful study of the first year.) 
Notes on the Development of a Child. University Press, 
Berkeley, 1907, 258 pp. 
Sigismund, B. Welt und Kind. 1856, 221 pp. (One of the very 

early studies.) 
Sikorsky, I. A. Die Seele des Kindes. Leipzig, 1902, 80 pp. 
Tiedemann, D. Record of Infant Life. Bardeen, Syracuse, 1890, 

46 pp. $0.15. (Study made in 1781, the oldest known.) 
Tilley, Laura Sawin. Record of the Development of Two Baby Boys. 
Assn. Coll. Alumnae Pub., 1910, 83 pp. 

Talent and Genius 

Adler, A. Ueber Mindenvertigkeit von Organe. Urban, 1907, 92 pp. 
Adler, A., and Fortmiillcr, K. Heilen und Bildcn. Remhardt, 

Munich, 1914, 186 pp. 
Also articles in his magazine, Zeits. fur Individualpsyi-hologie, 

pub. in Munich, monthly, i mark. 
Berle, A. A. The School in the Home. Moffat, Yard and Co., 

1912, 200 pp. 



1.30 The Child 

Bruce, Addington. Bending the Twig. Am. Mag., 1910, 690-695. 
Lightning Calculators. McClure's, 1912, 586-596. 
New Ideas in Child Training. Am. Mag., 1911, 286-294. 
Story of Karl Witte. Outlook, 1912, 211-218. 
Burnham, W. H. Individual Differences in the Imagination of 

Children. Ped. Sem., 1893, 204-225. 
Davidson, H. A. The Gift of Genius. Jour, of Ped., 1904, 281-297. 
Dolbear, Katherine. Precocious Children. Ped. Sem., Dec. 1912, 

471-491. Bibliog. 
Downes, F. E. Seven Years with Unusually Gifted Pupils. Psy. 

Clinic, 1912, 13-18. 
Ellis, Havelock. Study of British Genius. Lond., 1904, 300 pp. 
Galton, Francis. English Men of Science. Lond., 1874, 266 pp. 
Groszmann, M. P. E. The Exceptionally Bright Child. Proc. 

Nat. Assn. for Study and Ed. Excep. Ch., 1910, 103-133. 
Hirsch, W. Genius and Degeneration. Appleton, 1896, 330 pp. 
James, Wm. The Powers of Man. Am. Mag., 1907, 57-65. 
Lombroso, C. Determining of Genius. Monist, 1901, 49-64. 
O'Shea, M. V. Misconceptions concerning Precocity in Children. 

Science, 191 1, 666-674. 
Scripture, E. W. Arithmetical Prodigies. Am. Jour. Psy., 1891, 1-59. 
Shields, T. E. Maning and Unmaking of a Dullard. Cath. Ed. 

Press, Wash., 1909, 296 pp. 
Sidis, Boris. Philistine and Genius. Moffat, Yard and Co., 191 1, 

105 pp. 
Stern, Wilhelm. Die differentielle Psychologic. Leipzig, 191 1, 503 

pp. Bibliog. 
The Supernormal Child. Jour, of Ed., 1911, 143-149, 181-190. 
Terman, L. M. Study of Precocity and Prematurition. Am. Jour. 

Psy., 1905, 145-183. 
Genius and Stupidity. Ped. Sem., 1906, 307-373. 
Van Sickle, J. H. Gifted Pupils. Jour, of Ed., 1910, 291-292; 

Proc. N. E. A., 1908, 245-284; also, Bull. Wash. Gov. Print., 

191 1, 92 pp.; Ele. Sch. Teach., 1910, 357-366. 
Whitby, C. J. Makers of Man. Lond., 1910, 410 pp. 
Williams, T. A. Intellectual Precocity. Ped. Sem., 191 1, 85-103. 
Yoder, A. H. Boyhood of Great Men. . Ped. Sem., 1898, 134-156. 

Vocational Guidance 
Barrows, Alice. The Dangers and Possibilities of Vocational Guid- 
ance. . Ch. Labor Bull., Vol. I, No. i, 1912, 46-55. 



Nature versus Nurture . 131 

Bloomfield, Meyer. Vocational Guidance of Youth. Houghton, 

Mifflin, 1911, 120 pp. Bibliog. 
Cooley, E. G. Vocational Education in Europe. Chicago, 19 12, 

347 pp. 
Gillette, John M. Vocational Education. Am. Book Co., 1910, 

303 pp. 
Hutchinson, T. H. Vocational Guidance. Series of articles. 

Assn. Sent., 1912, and Jan. 1913. 
Mtinsterberg, Hugo. Vocation and Learning. St. Louis, 1912, 

289 pp. 
Page, C. S. Vocational Education. Wash. Gov. Print., 1912, 

134 PP- 
Parsons, Frank. Choosing a Vocation. Houghton, Mifflin, 1909, 

165 pp. Bibliog. 
Puffer, J. Adams. Vocational Guidance. Rand McNally & Co., 

1913, 294 pp. 
Richardson, A. S. Girl Who Earns Her Own Living. Dodge, 1909, 

283 pp. 
Rollins, F. W. What Can a Young Man Dof Little, Brown, 1907, 

339 PP- 
Vocational Education. Ed. by C. A. Bennett, Peoria, 111., Vol. I, 

1912. Bimonthly. 
Weeks, Ruth. The People's School. Houghton, Mifflin, 1912, 

207 pp. 
Bibliography pub. by Brooklyn Public Library, 19 13, 63 pp. 

Special Studies of Instinctive Tendencies and Interest 

Acher, R. A. Spontaneous Constructions and Primitive Activities 
of Children. Am. Jour. Psy., 1910, 114-150. 

Allin, A. Social Recapitulation. Ed. Rev., 1899, 344-352. 

Arnett, L. D. Origin and Development of Home and Love of Home. 
Ped. Sent., 1902, 324-365. 

Arnold, Felix. Psychology of Interest. Psy. Rev., 1906, 221-238, 

291-315- 
Baldwin, J. Mark. Genesis of Social Interests. Monist, 1897, 

340-357- 
Social and Ethical Interpretations. See Index. 
Balliet, T. M. Instincts and Education. Am. Phys. Ed. Rev., 

1908, 1-7. 
Bligh, Stanley M. Direction of Desire. Lond., 1910, 360 pp. 
Bodin, John E. Mind as Instinct. Psy. Rev., 1906, 121-139. 



132 T h e C h i I d 

Bolton, F. E. Hydro-psychoses. Am. Jour. Psy., Vol. X, 171-229. 
Bucke, W. F. Oliver, the Tame Crow. Fed. Sent., 1903, Vol. X, 
13-26. 
Cyno-psychoses. Fed. Sent., 1903, 459-573. 
Burbank, Luther. Training of the Human Flant. Century Co., 

1907, 99 pp. 
Burk, C. F. Collecting Instinct. Fed. Scm., 1900, 179-207. 
Burk, F. and C. Frcar. Study of Kindergarten Froblcm in . . . Santa 

Barbara, Cal., 1898-99. $0.50. 
Burnham, W. H. Group as Stimulus to Mental Activity. Science, 
N. S., 1910, 761-767. 
Attention and Interest. Am. Jour. Fsy., 1903, Vol. XIX, 14-18. 
Education from Genetic Point of View. Ele. Sch. Teach., 1905, 
117-124. 
Chamberlain, A. F. Use of Plants by Children. Jour. Ant. Folk 

Lore, 1901, Vol. XIV, 132-138. 
Chancellor, W. E. Motives, Ideals and Values in Education. 

Houghton, Mifflin, 1907, 534 pp. 
Davis, Benj. M. Agrictiltural Education in the Fublic Schools. 
U. of Chicago Press, 1912, 159 pp. Bibliog. (The most 
complete survey.) 
Dawson, G. E. Levels of Development. Jour, of Fed., 1905, 9-24. 
Children's Interest in the Bible. Fed. Sent., 1900, 151-178. 
Psychic Rudiments and Morality. Am. Jour. Fsy., Vol. XI, 
181-224. 
Dewey, John. Interest as related to Will, second supplement to 
Herbartian Year Book, 1899. 
Child and the Curriculum. U. of Chicago Press, 1902, 40 pp. 
Educational Situation. U. of Chicago Press, 1902, 104 pp. 
Ethical Principles Underlying Education. U. of Chicago Press, 

1903, 34 PP- 
Psychology and Social Practise. U. of Chicago Press, 1901, 42 pp. 
School and Society. U. of Chicago Press, 1899, 125 pp. 
Dexter, E. G. Weather Influences. Macmillan, 1904, 277 pp. 

Bibliog. 
Dopp, Katherine E. Place of Industries in Elementary Education. 

U. of Chicago Press, 1903, 208 pp. 
Ellis, G. H. Fetichism in Children. Fed. Sent., June 1902, 205-220. 
Ellis, Horace. First Lesson in Thrift. Psy. Clinic, 1910, 23-25. 
Fitch, I. G. Educational Aims and Methods. Macmillan, 1900, 

448 pp. 



Nature versus Nurture 133 

Greene, Louise M. Among ScJiool Garde^is. Charities Pub. Com., 

19 10, 335 pp. Bibliog. (Good.) 
Guillet, Cephas. Recapitulation and Education. Fed. Sent., 1900, 

397-445- 
Study in Interests. Fed. Sem., 1907, 322-328, 474-487. 
Hall, G. Stanley. See books above referred to, in Index. 

and Browne, C. A. Children's Ideas of Fire, Heat, Frost, and 
Cold. Fed. Sem-, 1903, Vol. X, 27-85. 

The Cat and the Child. Fed. Sem., 1904, 3-29. 
and T. L. Smith. Curiosity and Interest. Fed. Sem., 1903, 
315-358. 

Showing Off and Bashfulness. Fed. Sem., 1903, 159-199. 

Reactions to Light and Darkness. Am. Jour. Fsy., 1903, 
21-83. 
and Wallin, J. E. W. How Children Think and Feel about 

Clouds. Fed. Sem., 1902, 460-504. 
Harper, J. W. Education and Social Life. Pitman, Lond., 1907, 

314 PP- 
Harris, W. T. Fsychologic Foundations of Education. Appletori, 

1907, 400 pp. 
Hart, W. R., and Morton, O. A. Boys' and Girls' Clubs. Wright 

and Potter, Boston, 191 4, 32 pp. (Agricultural work.) 
Jewell, J. J. Agricultural Education, including Nature Study and 

School Gardens. Wash. Gov. Print., 1908, 148 pp. (Very 

inclusive.) 
Kaylor, M. A. Children and Pets. Fed. Sem., 1909, 205-239. 
Kent, E. B. Constructive Interests of Children. Columbia Univ. 

Pub., 1903, 78 pp. (Very suggestive.) 
Kern, O. J. Among Country Schools. Ginn, 1906, 366 pp. $1.35. 

(Good.) 
Kline, L. W. Truancy as related to the Migrating Instinct. Fed. 

Sem., Vol. V, 381-420. 
Miller, Persis K. School Gardens in relation to the Three R's. 

Education, 1905, 531-542. 
Murdock, P. F. Children in Geography. Jour, of Ed., 1906. 

Series of articles. 
Ordahl, Geo. Rivalry. Fed. Sem., 1908, Vol. 15, 492-549. 
Ostermann, W. Interest in Relation to Fedagogy. Kellogg. $1.00. 
Phillips, D. E. The Teaching Instinct. Fed. Sem., 1899, 188-255. 
Pillsbury, W. B. Attention. Macmillan, 1908, 342 pp. 



134 The Child 

Rooper, T. G. The Child, his Studies and Occupations. Kellogg. 

$0.50. 
Ruediger, W. C. Principles of Education. Houghton, Mifflin, 

1910, 305 PP- 
Scyz, Angelina. Flowers. Fed. Sem., 1906, Vol. XIII, 502-508. 
Shuler, E. W. Passing of the Recapitulation Theory. Ed. Rev., 

No. 44, 1912, 191-196. 
Slaughter, J. W. Moon in Childhood and Folklore. Am. Jour. 

Psy., Apr. 1902, 294-318. 
Stockton, M. I. Preferences by Boys and Girls. Psy. Rev., 191 1, 

347-373- 
Thayer, Alice. Children's Interest in Flowers. Ped. Sem., 1905, 

107-140. 
Thomas, I. W. The Gaming Instinct. Am. Jour. Soc, 1901, Vol. 

VI, 750-763- 

Titchener, E. B. Feeling and Attention. Macmillan, 1908, 391 pp. 
Triplett, Norman. Pacemaking and Competition. Am. Jour. 
■ Psy., 1898, Vol. VII, 507-533. 

For experimental articles on attention and interest, see the 
annual bibliography published by the Psychological Review, 
and for supplementary references along the above lines, the 
lists at the end of each chapter in this book. 

Among the numerous magazines devoted to child study, the 
following are among the best in English: 

The Pedagogical Seminary. Ed. by G. Stanley Hall and W. H. 
Burnham. Clark University, Worcester. Quarterly. $5.00 
per annum. (This is the oldest magazine devoted to child 
study and contains numerous original studies, besides many 
book reviews and notices. One of the valuable character- 
istics is the fullness of the bibliographies.) 

The Child. Ed.byT.N.Kelynack. London. Monthly. $5.25. 
(This is excellent, especially on the side of hygiene.) 

Journal of Educational Psychology. Warwick and York, 
Baltimore. Monthly. $1.50. (Also excellent, on the experi- 
mental side of education.) 

Journal of Experimental Pedagogy. Ed. by J. A. Green. 
Longmans, London, is. per number. (Also on the experi- 
mental side of education. Contains very important articles.) 



CHAPTER VII 

Sensation and Perception 

TEACHERS and students who are doing systematic 
work in child study should observe ihe following: 

1. Sight. Keep a record of these points Observa- 
in the baby's seeing: tio^is 

(i) When was the blank stare replaced by real 
seeing of an object, that is, by convergence 
of the eyes upon the object? 

(2) When did hi^ eyes first follow a moving object? 

Was the object bright or large? Did he move 
head as well as eyes ? 

(3) When did he first look for an object or try to 

see where a sound came from? 

(4) When did he first look for something that he had 

dropped? 

(5) When did he first show a liking for some color? 

What was the color? Was it in a bright light? 

(6) When did he first wink at the approach of some 

object threatening his eyes? 

2. Grasping. When did these acts first occur? 

(i) Closing of fingers over object put into the palm. 

(2) Opposition of thumb and fingers in grasping. 

(3) Putting hand in mouth. 

(4) When did he first grasp for some object he saw? 
Notice whether he reached for objects far beyond his 

grasp, that is, whether the hand closed to grasp them. 
Babies often stretch out their arms for things that they 
want — such as the moon — but Baldwin claims that in 

135 



136 The Child 

such cases there is no reaching and grasping as there is 
when they expect to seize a tangible object. He also 
claims that a baby does not grasp at objects far beyond 
his reach, and very soon learns to correct his first slight 
inaccuracies in judging distances. 

Teachers who wish statistics as to the ideas that chil- 
dren have about objects, should get G. Stanley Hall's 
pamphlet. Contents of Children's Minds on Entering 
School, also contained in Aspects of Child Life, and follow 
the plan outlined there. They may find another list of 
words more useful, but the general plan w411 be valuable 
in any case. 

In the preceding chapters we have discussed the 
physical nature of the child, and have hinted at some 
Introduc- ^^ ^^^ relations between it and education. 
tion We shall now take up his psychical nature 

and endeavor to trace the growth from the rudiments 
in sensation and perception to the more complex 
manifestations in the adolescent's reasoning. Each 
mental process, such as memory and imagination, will 
be similarly treated, so that when the account is finished 
we shall have an accurate picture of the mental growth 
of children. 

In this part of our subject, far more than in the de- 
scription of his physical nature or of his expressions of 
thought, observations are lacking entirely, or are few in 
number, or defective; but nevertheless, individual obser- 
vation may still be supplemented to a considerable degree. 

At what point in prenatal life feelings and sensations 
appear can never be settled until there is some general 
Prenatal agreement as to the basis on which we can 

consciousness properly infer the presence of psychical 
processes. There is no such agreement at present, and 



Sensation and Perception 137 

so we will simply state certain known facts, and our own 
conclusions. 

The Anlage, or first differentiation of nervous tissue 
from other tissues, comes very early in embryonic life, 
between the twelfth and twentieth days, and the most 
striking characteristic of the human embryo all through 
its development is the large size of the brain as compared 
with the rest of the body. At the stage above mentioned 
it comprises about one half of the nervous system, and 
its apparent reduction in the course of development is 
due to the fact that it folds over upon itself to make the 
very complex arrangement of the developed brain. By 
the fifth month of embryonic life it is believed that the 
number of nerve cells is complete, and the later develop- 
ment both before and after birth consists in an increase 
in size of the cells, the formation of the myelin sheath 
about the fibers, and the growth of association fibers 
between the various parts of the brain. 

If then we have a right to assume that any living 
organism with a nervous system has some sort of vague, 
rudimentary consciousness, we must grant it to the 
developing embryo at least from the third week on, but it 
is very difficult for us to understand what it would be 
Hke, so diffused and vague must it be. Again, it is 
known that there are at least slight movements as early 
as the fifth or sixth week, and in all probability these are 
the response to touch stimuli or to chemical alterations 
in the blood. 

With regard to the special senses — touch, smell, 
taste, sight, and hearing — their organs are all sufficiently 
developed by the seventh month to function Senses 
when stimulated, as has been abundantly before birth 
proved in prematurely bom children. That is, for at 
least two months before birth, all these parts of the 



138 The Child 

nervous system have developed and have done so with few 
or none of their own proper stimuH.- Undoubtedly there 
are touch stimuli and sensations for a considerable period 
before birth, as indicated above. Similarly, there are 
taste sensations obtained from the amniotic fluid which 
the child swallows, though they must be slight because 
this fluid has little taste. There can be no smell sensa- 
tion, because the nasal cavities also are filled with this 
fluid. The ear also is filled with it, but very loud stimuli 
or jars may agitate it sufficiently to set the ear bones in 
motion and give a muffled sensation of sound. The eye 
can receive little or no light, and the only possibility of 
prenatal sensation here comes from pressure or changes 
in its circulation, or perhaps some body transparency to 
light, but these must be very slight. On the whole, the 
condition of prenatal consciousness is like sleep, with 
vague dreams and the responses to stimuli that occur in 
sleep, and perhaps now and then a brief awakening, 
concludes Preyer. 

The consciousness of the newborn child has been tested 
by various observers upon one or a few children, but by 
Senses at ^^^ the most important contribution is that 
birth of Peterson and Rainey on 1,060 newborn 

children in Bellevue Hospital (959 normal white; 35 
colored; 41 premature; 13 pairs of twins). Forty-one of 
their cases were prematurely born, but even in those 
born in the seventh lunar month the nerves of special 
sense usually reacted like those of children born at full 
term. They summarize their observations in a pre- 
liminary way as follows : 

"i. Sight. Sensibility to sight is present in most in- 
fants at birth, and this is the case even when prematurely 
born. 

"2. Hearing. Sensibility to sound is quite as apparent 



Sensation and Perception 139 

as sensibility to light at birth, for 276 normal children 
reacted to sound on the first day of life and 146 reacted 
to light. A similar condition existed among the pre- 
mature infants, many reacting to sound on the first day, 
as well as to light. The auditory nerve is ready prepared 
to receive impressions of sound some time before the 
period of normal birth. This is wholly contrary to the 
opinions of other authorities. 

"3. Taste. The gustatory nerve not only reacts differ- 
ently to salt, sweet, bitter, and sour at birth, but the same 
mimetic reactions are observed in premature infants. 
This nerve is therefore ready to receive taste impressions 
some time before the normal period of birth. 

"4. Smell. Two hundred and seven normal children 
reacted to odors on the first day of birth, and similar 
reactions were observed in premature infants. 

"5. Cutaneous sensibility. Reactions to touch and 
temperature, and effective manifestations of discomfort 
obtained the first day in large numbers of normal infants, 
were similarly obtained in premature infants, showing 
that such sensibility is already present before the ex- 
piration of the period of normal gestation. There is 
every reason to believe that sensitiveness to painful 
stimuli is present, but the reactions are more vague and 
uncertain than in later life, which leads many to assume 
that the sense of pain is dull in the newborn. Muscular 
sense cannot be tested in infants, but there is every 
reason to believe that muscular sense, the sense of mo- 
tion and sense of position, are developed early in utcro. 

"6. Thirst-hunger and organic sensation. The newborn " 
child frequently reacts to thirst-hunger on the first day, 
though the actual need of food is seldom apparent until 
after the first or second day. Discomfort is clearly 
marked when nourishment is not forthcoming. The 



1 40 T h e C hild 

cries of discomfort and pain are marked on the first day 
in full-term infants and noteworthy in the premature. 

"7. The beginning of memory, feeling, and consciousness 
in the newborn child. There are good grounds for believ- 
Conscious- i^S ^^^^ ^^^ newborn child comes into the 
ness at birth world with a small store of experiences and 
associated feelings and shadowy consciousness. The fact 
that even in premature infants we find the senses already 
prepared for the reception of impressions on the five 
senses is some evidence of such impressions having been 
already received and stored up in the dim storehouse of 
a memory already begun. It may even be that some 
sort of vague light impressions have been received, for 
it is possible that in the interior of the body the alter- 
nation of day and night may in a mild degree be mani- 
fested. The translumination of the hands before a 
candle, of the skull and face bones in examination of the 
frontal sinuses and antrum by electric lights, are evi- 
dences of a certain amount of translucency of the whole 
organism to sunlight, which is so much more powerful 
than any artificial light. There is greater possibility in 
the matter of the auditory sense that it may be stimulated 
by sounds within the body of the mother (by bone con- 
duction p&ssibly), such sounds as the beat of the mater- 
nal and fetal hearts, the uterine and funic souffles, and 
the bruit of the maternal aorta. 

"Moderate stimulation of the gustatory nerve is thought 
to occur through the common swallowing of amniotic 
fluid by the fetus. 

"A marked development of the senses of touch and of 
muscular sense dviring uterine life is undisputed. . . . 
This activity of the muscles and constant contact of vari- 
ous parts of the fetal body within the uterine walls for 
a period of months before birth must lay a foundation 



Sensation and Perception 141 

under the threshold of consciousness for a sense of equiHb- 
rium and vague spatial relations. The material basis of 
consciousness is prepared long before birth. 

"There is already a feeling tone associated with the 
earliest reactions, though we are altogether in the dark 
as regards its psycho-physiology. The process has been 
thus fonnulated: Stimulus-reaction-liking-reinforcement. 
Stimulus-reaction-dislike or pain-inhibition. This is the 
early simple associative memory in reactions to stimuli. 

"8. There are no perceptible differences in reactions 
of colored and white children or between pairs of twins." 

Comparing these observations with those of other 
observers, we find a general agreement but also some 
important differences, more especially with regard to 
hearing. The hearing test was given with a rattle of 
such a character that the authors are convinced there 
could be no mere jar or vibration from it to stimulate 
the child, and yet with forty-eight normal children, 
twenty-three reacted to it within the first three hours 
after birth, sixteen within the first two, eleven within 
the first, two within forty-five minutes, one within thirty 
minutes, and one within fifteen minutes after birth. 
Most earlier observers, especially Miss Shinn, make 
more or less positive assertions as to deafness during the 
first two or three days, but it is interesting to note that 
Preyer is very careful not to do so, and in his Physiologie 
des Embryo states that the ear is ready to function for 
some time before birth and probably does receive muffled 
stimuli to which it reacts. We might make the general 
statement here that when an organ in any part of the 
body is found all ready to function it is difficult for the 
biologist to understand this readiness without some 
previous functioning, however imperfect. The prevalent 
standpoint to-day is that the development of the embryo 



142 The Child 

and of each organ is a matter of reaction to stimuli. 

Therefore we must not look upon the newborn child 
as an utter stranger to this our world. The little world 
within from which he comes has already given him in a 
vague, dim forai all the classes of sensations which he 
will receive in the large outer world. Touch and the 
muscular sense especially have been exercised so that 
at birth, if not before, there is some localization of touch 
stimuli and, Kussmaul believes, some consciousness of 
an outer something which can satisfy hunger and thirst 
by going to the mouth. Organic memory has begun, 
and we may at least ask why it is not possible that there 
should be memory images of touch and movement, and 
perhaps of taste, though in this case the stimuH are slight. 

If we attempt to picture the mental condition involved 
here, we may quote Miss Shinn, with certain omissions: 
"She took in with a vague comfort the gentle light that 
fell on her eyes, seeing without any sort of attention or 
comprehension the moving blurs of darkness that varied it. 
She felt motions and changes; she felt the action of her 
own muscles, and . . . disagreeable shocks of sound 
now and then broke through the silence or perhaps 
through an unnoticed jumble of faint noises. She felt 
touches on her body from time to time . . . and steady, 
slight sensations of touch from her clothes, from arms 
that held her, from cushions on which she lay, poured in 
on her. 

"From time to time sensations of hunger and thirst, 
and once or twice of pain, made themselves felt through 
all the others, and mounted till they became distressing; 
from time to time a feeling of heightened comfort flowed 
over her as hunger Or thirst were satisfied; or release 
from clothes and the effect of the bath and rubbing on her 
circulation increased the net sense of well-being. . . . 



Sensation and Perception 143 

For the rest she lay empty minded, neither consciously 
comfortable nor uncomfortable, yet on the whole per- 
vaded with a dull sense of well-being. Of the people 
about her, of her mother's face, of her own existence, 
of desire or fear, she knew nothing. Yet this dim dream 
was flecked all through with the beginnings of later 
comparison and choice." 

To trace the steps of the marvelous transformation 
from this animal-like little being to the wide-awake, 
fascinating little person of a year later is especially to 
trace the development of sensation and perception. 
Memory, imagination, and thought also begin here, but 
do not develop so rapidly as does perception. 

After birth the ordinary stimuli and the reactions to 
them cultivate a certain amount of discrimination, but 
this is as a rule much less than is possible and less than 
the nascent senses demand. Let us briefly consider the 
development of sensation and perception in babyhood 
and childhood. 

It is difficult to test the sense of smell with any accu- 
racy, and this sense is also of lessening importance in 
human life, although of great significance Development 
for some animals. Few observations have o^ smell 
been made upon it in children. Undoubtedly it is de- 
veloped at birth, but children seem rather insensitive to 
it on the whole, and if kept in cleanly surroundings, with 
good air, have relatively little opportunity to exercise it. 
At puberty it becomes more sensitive, a fondness for 
perfumes is likely to develop, and the odors connected 
with persons are more keenly perceived with pleasure 
or dislike. In some instances the sense is so keen that 
individuals are recognized by their odor, and this is 
especially likely to be the case if some other sense, such 
as sight or hearing, has been lost. 



144 The Child 

Aside from the aesthetic pleasures from perfumes, 
children should be taught to know the odors of practical 
importance — bad air, gas, odors that indicate whether 
food, especially meat, is edible or not, and so on. 

We have seen that for some time before birth the 
power to distinguish sour, bitter, and sweet tastes is 
present, and soon after birth Preyer found 
considerable fineness of discrimination. It is 
interesting to know that in babies and children the taste 
buds are more widely distributed than in adults, some- 
times on the cheeks and in the back part of the nasal 
passages as well as on the tongue. In lower forms of 
life they are still more widely distributed, sometimes 
being scattered over the surface of the body, so that the 
animal not only tastes with its mouth but with its skin. 
The baby, as we all know, tends to put everything to its 
mouth, and this it does even when not hungry. In the 
Httle child, especially before the fourth or fifth year, 
this tendency to taste, hck, and suck everything is 
undiscriminating, including often even disgusting things. 
Bell gives a Hst of one hundred and eighty things thus 
experimented with. By degrees this catholicity narrows, 
but all through childhood, especially from seven to ten, he 
finds that most children like to try new mixtures and 
kinds of food, while at adolescence new tastes and likings 
develop but also strong dislikes, and the social factors in 
eating come far more to the front. 

We cannot here discuss the matter of children's diet, 
but we must indicate certain guiding principles. It 
should not be necessary to say that the only way to give 
a child a normal, healthy Hking for foods is to supply 
him from the beginning with the right kinds of food 
properly cooked. The child fed on fried, greasy, stim- 
ulating food of course adapts himself to it and acquires 



Sensation and Perception • 145 

the liking of custom even though it is ruining his diges- 
tion. Similarly, the child fed on the simple, well-cooked 
diet suited to his age likes it and will prefer it through- 
out life, as the other child does the unhealthful food. 
But again, since the normal child likes to make these 
taste experiments, he should have a chance to do so. An 
effort should be made to put on the home table new 
kinds and new combinations of food, such as the dishes 
characteristic of various nationalities or feasts and fes- 
tivals. Variety and change are great aids to appetite. 
On the other hand, to cater to caprice is as great a 
mistake as to ignore individual tastes entirely. To cook 
individual dishes for the various healthy children in a 
family is folly, just as is the opposite extreme of forcing 
a child to eat food for which he has an insurmountable 
dislike. Of course, a child may have some digestive, 
nervous, or other disturbance which necessitates a special 
diet, but if he is well, he should eat the family dishes 
or go hungry. Many of the caprices of children's — -not 
adolescents' — appetite, are simply those of an overfed 
animal. 

The sensitiveness to sounds varies considerably. 
Compayre records that about the fourth day such slight 

sounds as a sneeze or a whistle caused violent ^, 

Of sound 
responses. We should notice, however, that 

a child's starts or tremors when a door slams or when a 

loud voice speaks are often due to the jar instead of to 

the noise. This can easily be tested by making the 

soimds where none of the jar from them can reach the 

baby. Mrs. Hall observes this great sensitiveness to 

jars on the first day. 

On the seventh day a loud call would not awaken 

Preyer's son, but on the third day Miss Shinn's niece 

started when some paper was torn at a distance of eight 



146 The Child 

feet. By the fifth week, Preyer's boy was so sensitive 
that during the day he would not sleep if any one was 
talking or walking in the room. On the other hand, 
many babies sleep tranquilly through prolonged con- 
versations. Habit has much to do with this. 

In the eighth week this same boy heard the piano, 
and was much pleased with the loud tones, but paid no 
attention to the soft ones. The various obsen^ations 
on sensibility to musical tones we shall consider later 
in connection with music. 

During teething, the same boy's sensibility to sounds 
was increased, and after the first year most new sounds, 
even when very loud, like thunder, caused pleasure 
instead of fear. 

Mrs. Hall noticed that her child distin.guished different 
kinds of sounds before any one sound was recognized. 
When we consider the adult's inability to recognize ab- 
solute pitch, this is just what we should expect. Our 
knowledge and recognition of sounds are almost entirely 
matters of their relations to each other. 

Five minutes after birth, when taken to a window 
in the twilight, Preyer's son showed some sensitiveness 
Of sight ^^ ^^'^ light. The eyes of a baby will close 

I. Sensitive- if a bright light is brought near them, and 
ness ig g^j.g pg^j-^iy closed most of the time at first. 
Compayre thinks that one reason why some babies are 
so wakeful at night is that the darkness does not fatigue 
their eyes as dayHght does. 

This first shrinking soon disappears, however. Within 
a few days the baby will turn its head toward a window 
or light, and within a few weeks will give various expres- 
sions of pleasure at light. The strabismus or squinting 
which is so marked in most newborn babies disap- 
pears by the third week, and moderately bright lights 



Sensation and Perception 147 

are enjoyed. The great sensitiveness to light at first 
is shown also by the fact that a baby's pupils are more 
contracted than an adult's. 

The importance of shielding a baby's eyes from a 
glare of light is thus evident. A little baby should not 
lie facing a window or bright light for any length of 
time, any more than a child should be allowed to face 
them when he reads. 

Observation seems to show that babies are generally 
shortsighted for a time, and in addition to this, their 
inability at first to move their eyeballs or 2. Range of 
head with any regularity limits their vision vision 
still more. The lens also does not accommodate itself 
to objects at first, so that any object outside of the one 
focal distance must be very indistinct. While a child is 
not born blind, therefore, his visual world is limited to 
the few feet directly in front of him, filled with indistinct 
blurs. By the sixth week the shortsightedness is less 
marked and by the eighth, accommodation of the lenses 
begins, both greatly enlarging the child's world. 

The first movements of the eyelids are not coordi- 
nated either with each other or with the eyeballs. One 
eye may be wide open when the other is 
half shut, and both will sometimes close nients of 

while the eyes are fixed on some object, eyes; the 
.nil 11 • • eyelids 

At first also they seem to be less sensitive 

than later, for wetting the eyelids and even the cornea, 
which is so sensitive in adults, will not cause the eyelids 
to close in some cases until after the third month. So 
also at first there is no winking when an object threatens 
the eyes. The first appearance of winking occurs some 
time between the forty-third and sixtieth days, by which 
time the movements of the eyelids are fairly well co- 
ordinated. 



14S The Child 

Convergence, that is, harmonious movements of the 

eyeballs so as to bring the points of clearest vision in 

TM- .. 1. both to focus upon the same object, is in as 
The eyeballs . . '■ , . , . , . 

imperfect a state at birth as is everything 

else. Many children are born cross-eyed and remain 

so for months, the defect disappearing as the eyes are 

used and accustomed to work together. 

In all children different degrees of incoordination 
can be observ^ed even from the very first, for while at 
some times the eyes are evidently not working together, 
at others they appear to be. In the latter case, however, 
closer watching usually shows that the movements are 
not perfectly coordinated. Compayre traces the develop- 
ment from incoordinate movements to involuntary 
coordinated, and then to voluntary coordinated; but 
while this shows the logical order and the order in which 
the relative importance of the movements progresses, 
all three are found from the second week on, if Preyer's 
observations are correct. He notes that on the seventh 
day his boy's eyes followed a candle, and converged, 
while on the eleventh day there was unmistakable fix- 
ation of the eyes. Mrs. Hall also notes that from the 
second week the eyes began to rest on objects, but places 
the first unmistakable fixation on the twenty-first day. 
On the fifty-third day her child gazed at a box of rattling 
matches for six minutes, and on the sixty-second at a 
purse of jingling coins for twenty-eight minutes. Even 
then he would have continued, though showing great 
fatigue. 

This prolonged convergence of the eyes is one of the 
very important steps in seeing, as until it is accomplished 
there can be no definite marking out of one object from 
another. Sully notes that convergence is well established 
by the sixth week, and it is followed almost at once in 



Sensation and Perception 149 

the eighth week by the accommodation of the lenses, 
which makes each object still more distinct and definite 
in outline. The first well-defined seeing of objects 
probably occurs therefore about the second month, or 
between the second and third months. 

Following a movement with the eyes cannot occur 
until convergence is well established, but we find that 
Preyer notes the first following with the first convergence, 
on the seventh day. He notes again, however, on the 
twenty-third day, that his son followed a moving candle 
with his eyes and turned his head to do so. On the 
thirtieth day Mrs. Hall's child followed the movements 
of a brush and comb, and on the thirty-eighth day, 
that of a gently swinging ball. This ability remains 
limited for a long time; thus we find Preyer's child from 
the forty-third to the sixty-fourth weeks just learning 
to look after an object that falls, and even when two 
and one-half years old unable to follow the flight of a bird. 

After the baby gets distinct retinal images of objects 
through convergence and accommodation, and has 
learned to follow a moving object with his Looking for 
eyes, but one small step is necessary before a hidden 
his mental growth proceeds by leaps and ^ ^^^ 
bounds ; that is, he must learn to look for an object that 
is out of sight. Herein Hes the germ of memory and a 
clear manifestation of will. 

Miss Shinn first observed this at the beginning of the 
eighth week, when the baby turned from studying her 
aunt's face to study her mother's, which was entirely 
out of sight. Accommodation began at the same time, 
and was succeeded by a period of absorbed looking at 
everything that she could by any possibility twist her 
head and body to see. 

Closely connected with this, from the eighth to the 



150 T h e C h i I d 

twelfth week, is the first recognition of faces. Naturally, 
the one who takes the most care of the baby is noticed 
first, or, if several persons spend about the same time 
with him, the one who most satisfies his instincts and 
impulses. Before this, even as early as the third week, 
a baby learns to recognize people by touch, but here we 
are speaking of sight alone. 

Finally, we come to the sense of touch, the mother 
sense, the oldest, both in the history of the race and of 
the individual, from which all of the others 
have been developed, and to which we still 
return to get the closest sense of reality and the best 
proof of the existence of things. Not only is touch the 
oldest, but it is also the most widely distributed, sense. 
From the skin, with its various nerve endings sensitive 
to pressure, temperature, and pain, a million and a half 
or more of nerve fibers pass to the spinal cord. Other 
touch organs end in the muscles, joints, and tendons, 
and still others in the visceral organs. We cannot even 
begin to describe these adequately. We can only roughly 
indicate certain general facts important to those deal- 
ing with children. 

Here, as in the case of smell, we have no exact obser- 
vations as to how much a baby discriminates differences 
I. Tempera- of heat and cold. It seems probable that 
t"re at the first bath he feels warmth and cold, 

and after the first week he shows decided pleasure in a 
warm bath and dislike of one 1^4° C. lower. 

Taylor warns us that the child of two or three years 
has a membrane so much more sensitive than an adult's 
that it may be blistered by food which to an adult seems 
only warm. He evidences the protests of children 
against food and water which to us seem only agreeably 
heated. 



Sensation and Perception 151 

Under the head of passive touch we consider only 
those pressure sensations in which the skin alone is 
involved. When the muscles also are used, 2. Passive 
as in exploring a surface or in grasping, we touch 
have active touch. When respiration begins, the reflexes 
called out by slapping or pinching are stronger than 
before, and after two or three weeks there is a markedly 
stronger response to a slight stimulus than at first. 

Preyer found that the lips and tongue of a newborn 
child are the most sensitive parts of the body. Tick- 
ling the tip of the tongue before the child had ever been 
fed caused sucking and swallowing movements, while 
tickling the root caused movements of ejection. 

Touching the palm of a two hours' old child causes 
the fingers to close about the object, and the grasp is so 
strong that the babe may hang suspended by his hands 
for half a minute — a feat many adults cannot duplicate. 
Touching the soles also causes reflex movements, but 
they are slower than a week or so later. 

In the discussion of this subject we anticipate what 
should come in the chapter on instincts, but it is so 
essential to the understanding of perception 3. Active 
that the separation is unavoidable. We shall touch 
take up here the series of movements which most assist 
the child in getting a knowledge of objects as distinct from 
each other and as holding space relations to each other. 

We have already seen that Preyer found that the lips 

and tongue are most sensitive in passive touch, and we 

all know that everything goes into a baby's __ ^, . 

1 11 11-11 Mouthing 

mouth, there to be sucked and licked. 

Preyer attributes this to the baby's belief that all the 

world is milk, and that to get milk at any time all that 

is necessary is to put the first handy object into his 

mouth and suck it diligently. Miss Shinn takes issue 



152 T h e C hi I d 

with Preyer here, and maintains that things go into 
the mouth on account of the pleasure that comes from 
contact with the sensitive hps and tongue, just as an 
adult gets pleasure from touching smooth, warm surfaces 
or from exploring the outlines of an object with the hand. 
Both theories are based on observations of only a few 
children, but Miss Shinn's seems more true than Herr 
Preyer's. We must, of course, except from consideration 
the hungry child. He wants only food. But when he 
is fed and warni and happy, he will still mouth eagerly 
at anything between his lips, and will continue to do so 
even though it is hard and tasteless. He shows no 
disappointment when no milk comes from it, but on the 
contrary goes over it again and again with lips and 
tongue. And his repeated experiences that milk flows 
only from the bottle do not deter him. On the con- 
trary, long after a baby has shown in other ways that he 
associates definite experiences with definite objects, he 
continues to put things into his mouth. He would not 
do this if all that he wanted from them were food. 

Miss Shinn also observed in her niece a stage when, 
to some extent, she used the mouth for grasping instead 
of the hand, putting her head down, like a dog, to get at 
the object, and protruding her lips. For some time, in 
getting an object into her mouth from her hand, she 
pushed her head down toward her hand more than she 
raised her hand to her mouth. For some time she would 
mouth over the face and dress of the person holding her, 
in preference to using her hands. 

Even children four or five years old put things into 
their mouths to suck, although they know that they are 
not eatable, and many adults do the same. The habit 
of chewing gum, where there is no taste after -the first 
few minutes, illustrates this. 



Sensation and Perception 153 

In all this, there seem to be traces of the survival of 
an ancestral stage when man, like other animals, did not 
use his hands for grasping, but only his mouth. The 
stage is, of course, rudimentary, and is not distinctly 
marked off from that of hand grasping, but it does seem 
to be present. 

For lack of a better name, we call the first movements 
of a child's hands and arms random. Many of them are 
not coordinated and they seem to serve no Hand 

useful end. The child himself has no control grasping 

over them. They are due to overflows of nervous energy, 
which drain off in this way. 

In the first random movements the arms go helplessly 
here and there, striking against the surrounding objects, 
against the baby's own body, his face and his eyes, and 
now and then getting into his mouth, where they are 
sucked. They are especially likely to get to his mouth, 
because in the prenatal posture the hands are close to 
the mouth, and the position is naturally assumed by a 
baby for some time after birth. The great enjoyment 
obtained from the thumb or fist, deepens the connections 
thus accidentally formed between the hand movement 
and the sucking movements, so that he soon learns to 
put his hands to his mouth when he pleases. By the 
twelfth week Mrs. Hall's baby was able to put things 
into his mouth or near enough to it so that the lips could 
feel them and draw them in. Even in the forty-third 
week, Preyer's boy would miss his mouth sometimes 
when it was open and waiting for food. In first learning 
these movements, the left arm often moves symmetrically 
with the right. 

Grasping develops slowly through a number of stages 
as follows: 

I. Reflex clasping. Two hours after birth the fingers 



154 The Child 

will close over an object put into them, and within a 
few days a loud sound or bright light may cause a con- 
Reflex vulsive throwing up of both arms. Mrs. Hall 
clasping states that at first her baby seemed uncon- 
scious of any object in his hand, but that on the fifty- 
seventh day the fingers closed over a small pencil case. 
It seems as if her observation must be defective here, as 
all other observers agree that the reflex grasping occurs 
shortly after birth. 

2. Holding with the thumb opposed to the fingers 
when an object chances to be in the way of the moving 
Thumb and hand. Mrs. Hall notes that after the 
fingers seventieth day the thumb lay outside the 

fingers when the hand was closed, while before it had 
been inside. During the first three months, the thumb 
becomes opposed to the fingers as in an adult, so that 
any objects which come into contact with the hand are 
more firmly held. This fact, combined with the ability 
already gained to put the hands to the mouth, results 
in many objects being taken to the mouth, where the 
variety and pleasure of the new feelings prompt him to 
repeat the act. 

Thus the thumb and fingers have learned to work 
together, though awkwardly, and thus connections 
have been established between arm movements and 
the pleasures of sucking the hand or the objects held 
in the hand. But as yet the eye does not direct the 
hand, and therefore the child does not reach for objects 
that he sees, and he does not look at objects held by 
his hand. 

In order to bring out vividly the importance of the 
sense of touch we cannot forbear the pleasure of quoting 
at length from Arnold and Beatrice Gesell's book on The 
Normal Child and Primary Education (pp. no- 113): 



Sensation and Perception 155 

"When compared with sight and hearing, touch has 
been called an unintellectual sense, but such a state- 
ment is seriously misleading. The most fun- Significance 
damental data for our ]?erception of dis- of touch 
tance, direction, size, and form come through the feel 
gate. Only handling and manual activity can put vivid- 
ness and content into the' perceptions of the outside 
world. The child must begin in very infancy its ac- 
quaintance with the resistance and construction qualities of 
paper, sand, cloth, wood, etc. ... If his opportunities 
be good he will by tools learn the individuality of vari- 
ous woods, cardboard, leather, wire, fibers, clay, glass, 
stone, wood, cotton, and by dabbling acquire enough 
about every art to give him an appreciative apperception 
for everything that man has made. Our point is that 
he cannot get this appreciation by mere reading or listen- 
ing or even observation. His skin and tendons and 
muscles must be stimulated before he gets the kernel of 
reality in any physical thing. For this reason much of 
the object teaching in the schools is not nearly so effec- 
tive as is often fondly believed. It is only eye deep, 
and what children need is the opportunity to handle and 
stroke. A picture is better than a word, a stuffed bird 
is better than a picture, but nothing can take the place 
of putting a little live creature into the palms, where 
fifty thousand touch bulbs will tingle with the fiuffiness 
of the feathers. . . . There were touch sensations in 
the primordial sea where the earliest life began. There 
were touch sensations in the mud and on the land bil- 
lions of years before the continents took their present 
shape and before man appeared upon the face of those 
continents. Touch is most intimately associated with 
the fundamental instincts of workmanship, hunger, sex, 
curiosity, fighting, and sympathy. Moreover, it is most 



156 The Child 

vague, diffuse, and general in character. All these 
reasons combine to make it the most profoundly and 
massively emotional of all the senses, especially in child- 
hood. . . . Through no other avenue docs the child 
get such a wealth of artistic enjoyment. Who can 
number the thrills of pleasure every eager child gains by 
the mere stroking of smooth surfaces and rondures, 
polished woods and marbles, pebbles, silks, vegetables, 
fruits, animals? And what of the endless rapturous 
experiments with the textures, the pliancy, elasticity, and 
rigidity of all sorts of materials? 

"Then there are the larger dermal joys and adventures 
in which face and cheek and sometimes the whole body 
participate — the big, tactual experiences with the ele- 
ments, fire, frost, cold, wind, mist, sod, beach, and sea. 
These massy experiences, though less discriminative than 
the delicate touches of the finger tips, are all the more 
bucolic and exuberant, for they are profoundly dyed 
with the interests, joys, and longings of the race; and 
there is a resurgence of feeling when the child reexperi- 
ences them. Hence his orgy of enjoyment when he is 
free to wade, wallow, and splash in mud or water. Bare- 
headedness, barefootedness, — and on swimming and 
athletic days barebodiedness — are the biological rights 
of every child. Only by such generous exposure to wind 
and weather, to earth, water, and sky, can nature make 
those rich, massive impressions which get to the depth of 
the soul. Every child needs a rich range of touch ex- 
periences — of the delicate for the appreciation of things 
refined, of the grosser for the appreciation of things 
strong, stately, and sublime. . . . Everything, however 
humble, which enriches the active and passive touch 
experiences of the child, will therefore contribute to 
higher aesthetic enjoyment." 



Sensation and Perception 157 

So far, the development of each sense has been con- 
sidered separately, as if when the baby saw, he did not 
also touch or hear or taste, while actually Sensation 
the different senses cooperate almost from and 
the beginning, although imperfectly. Con- Perception 
nections are established with particular rapidity between 
certain sensations and certain reactions. Within two or 
three weeks after birth, for instance, the sight or smell 
of the milk will call out a definite response from the baby. 

Such a sensation has bound up with it certain other 
possible experiences that make it more than a mere 
sight or sound. The sight of the milk now means also 
to the baby a certain taste and satisfaction. Later on, 
the sight of his mother's face means being held and 
petted; the sight of his bath means splashing, and so 
on through all his various experiences. He is binding 
together thus the numerous different experiences that 
he gets from each sense and from different senses, and 
the result is that each sensation comes to stand for a 
great many more possible sensations that he can get if 
he chooses to exert himself to do so. When a sensation 
has thus acquired meaning, it has become a perception. 

The first sensations that are associated are probably 
those of the taste and the touch of milk. These very 
soon become associated with the sight of the Taste and 
bottle, the connections being established touch 
even as early as the third week. A child will then push 
toward the bottle and a little later will cease fretting as 
soon as preparations for feeding him are begun. 

It is probably the case that various touch sensa- 
tions are very early combined into one whole, as a 
baby distinguishes persons by the way they Touch and 
handle him long before he knows faces. touch 
But we have no careful observations on this point. 
1] 



iS8 The Child 

Sully's Extracts record that in the sixth week the 
baby for the first time turned his head toward a sound 
Sight and to see what made^ it. Preyer did not see 
sound this until the eleventh week, but then it 

became very common and by the sixteenth week was 
done so quickly that it seemed reflex. This connection 
never becomes close. Adults are rarely able to locate 
sounds very accurately. 

We have already noted that between the eighth and 
twelfth weeks a baby first recognizes faces by sight and 
Sight and begins to seek for objects that are out of 
sight sight. He has now an immense amount of 

work before him in the way of connecting the various 
appearances of objects with each other and of tracing 
similarities between objects, and he proceeds to this 
work with infinite zest. If we will but consider a mo- 
ment, we can see how complex a task this really is. The 
slightest change of position changes greatly the appear- 
ance of any object. A table is not at all the same 
thing to the baby on the floor that it is when he is in 
some one's arms, and both are different from the table 
that he sits up to in his chair. We grown people have 
learned to allow for these differences; but to the baby 
mind the visual world must present a series of metamor- 
phoses far more startling than any that the fairy god- 
mother is ever supposed to make. It is, theh, small 
wonder that he believes in fairy tales two or three years 
later if the wonder created in his little mind by these 
first miracles leaves any lasting impression. 

Miss Shinn gives such an excellent description of 
what takes place in establishing these connections be- 
tween the various appearances of an object that we 
will take it as typical: "Later the same day (when six 
months old) she sat in my lap watching with an intent 



Sensation and Perception 159 

and puzzled face the back and side of her grandmother's 
head. Grandma turned and chirruped to her and the 
Httle one's jaw dropped and her eyebrows went up in an 
expression of blank surprise. Presently I began to swing 
her on my foot, and at every pause in the swinging she 
would sit gazing at the puzzling head till grandma turned 
or nodded and chirruped; then she would turn away 
satisfied and want more swinging. ... At first, amazed 
to see the coil of silver hair and the curve of cheek turn 
into grandma's front face, the baby watched for the 
repetition of the miracle till it came to seem natural, and 
the two aspects were firmly knit together in her mind." 
Preyer tells also of how Axel in his seventh month gasped 
with astonishment when a fan was opened and shut 
before him. If we can imagine our own feelings if a 
table should suddenly begin to disappear and reappear, 
we can faintly understand his surprise. 

When we consider that this -same process of connect- 
ing the various aspects of objects has to be gone through 
with each object, we have a vastly increased respect for 
the working powers of the baby's brain! 

Recognition of visual fomi grows rapidly, and by the 
seventh or eighth month we find some babies identi- 
fying pictures, or recognizing the real object from its 
representation, as with Mrs. Hall's child, who recog- 
nized a real dog from its likeness to a toy one that stood 
on the mantelpiece. 

In all this the baby is getting his world of things seen 
well separated from each other and reunited into distinct 
wholes, but this process is much facilitated when he 
begins to connect sight and touch. 

At first the two series seem to run side by side inde- 
pendently. The baby's hands grope and fumble with 
objects and learn to carry them to his mouth, but his 



i6o T h c C h i I d 

eyes do not follow his hands. The connection between the 
two is established mechanically at first. The eye chances 
Sight and to catch sight of the hand that is fumbling 
touch some object and follows its movements as 

it does those of any moving thing. Sometimes the 
empty hand catches the eye and is carefully studied. 
Thus, by degrees, the eye forms the habit of watching the 
hand as it seizes, and later of directing it. 

The time when active touch and seeing are thus first 
united is given very differently. Sully puts it as early 
as the ninth week; Mrs. Hall, the fourteenth; Preyer, 
the seventeenth; and Miss Shinn, the twenty-first. 
It seems doubtful whether it could occur as early as 
the ninth week, for then convergence and accommoda- 
tion have only just been established, and the distinct 
seeing of objects would be too new a thing for the eye 
to control the hand with any success. More observa- 
tions are needed on this point. 

When the connection is once estabHshed, however, 
a baby is indefatigable in his efforts to reach and han- 
dle everything about him. Here we stumble upon the 
question whether a baby reaches for objects more than 
a few inches beyond his grasp, or whether he has an 
inherited distance sense, an instinct for distance. Bald- 
win, in a series of experiments on his child, found that she 
never grasped at objects more than a foot beyond her 
reach, and soon learned to correct this error. He argues, 
therefore, for a rudimentary instinct. Preyer brings 
forward on the other hand, numerous illustrations of 
Axel's grasping for objects across the room; and finally 
cites this incident, which occurred in the ninety-sixth 
week. Axel was in the garden and his father in a 
second-story window. Axel held up a piece of paper, 
asking his father to take it, and held it up to him 



Sensation and Perception i6i 

for some time, thinking that he conld reach his father's 
hand. 

The various observers record numberless attempts 
and failures to grasp, but whether the failure is due to 
wrong judgment of the distance or simply to lack of 
control of the hand is not evident from the accounts. 
As between Baldwin and Preyer, it is impossible to 
form an opinion until we have more extended data. 
Observations on one child are not sufficient material 
for a theory, especially when there is so much dispute, 
as in this case. 

The ability to direct the hand by the eye increases 
very rapidly when once begun, until the child of a year 
has fair control of the larger movements; but how much 
he lacks in detail is shown by his difficulty in doing many 
common things. He has to learn to carry a spoon straight 
to his mouth, to dress himself, to button or lace his 
shoes, to throw a ball — in short, to do all the acts that 
with us are so habitual that we are almost unconscious 
of them. 

In these numberless ways he is getting more and 
more definite ideas of the qualities of objects, and of 
their relations to each other in space — that is, ideas of 
distance. He now has but to continue repeating in 
detail what he has already gone over in large. 

When we consider perception in its larger aspect as 
knowledge and observation of the world about us, the 
part played by each of the senses and our senses and 
own psychical reaction to the various stimuli the mental 
become of great importance. Sanford points ' ® 
out that touch is especially closely connected with the 
muscles, and that it is the only sense that can be doubled 
upon itself, as it is when we get double contact. It also 
stands high in the power to rouse emotion. Hearing 



i62 The Child 

also is very closely connected with the muscles, but as a 
long-range sense it becomes the basis of many indirect 
perceptions and inferences, especially in language. Seeing, 
of course, has this characteristic still more developed. 
Smell and taste, on the other hand, Sanford considers of 
little importance to civilized man. 

Perception, as we have already seen, is essentially a 
matter of retaining certain qualities of things and not 
attending to others, and this shading or emphasizing is 
what gives differences of meaning with different people 
who are perceiving the same thing. But behind these 
differences there is still the sensory experience, and this 
gives the boundary. Roughly speaking, these limits 
are as follows : Touch gives us the world of matter, force, 
and energy; active touch especially gives us the sense of 
efficiency and freedom. Hearing gives us the symbols 
of thought, and the organic and general sensations the 
sense of self and the basis of our emotions. Sight gives 
us especially the larger relations of space and of objects 
in. space, and, in connection with touch, the object as 
a whole. 

But just as striking as the importance of these sense? 
as the basis of knowledge is the other fact, that they are of 
relatively little use unless attention and interest direct 
them. We are amazed to see how little a blind deaf-mute 
like Helen Keller lacks of normal mental development, 
but the inference we should properly make from such 
cases is that children with normal senses are greatly 
neglected or maltreated educationally and so do not 
attain nearly their normal development. This appears in 
various recent educational developments both positively 
and negatively. 

Negatively, we should consider the various tests on 
the contents of children's minds. As far back as 1869 



Sensation and Perception 163 

the teachers' union of BerHn undertook to find out what 
children just entering school knew about their environ- 
ment and how much they differed. They Contents of 
found that many children had never seen children's 
important squares and monuments near ^^^ ^ 
their homes; only about half knew what a circle was; 
less than half a sunset, meadow, triangle, forest, 
herd of sheep, tempest, sunrise; less than one third 
oak, plow, dew, lake, harvest; only one tenth a river, 
and so on. Large percentages of children, therefore; 
lacked ideas which were the basis of all school instruc- 
tion. In 1879 Lange obtained corresponding results on 
eight hundred children. In 1880 Hall undertook a far 
more extensive investigation on Boston children, which 
was followed three years later in Kansas City by a similar 
experiment by Greenwood on children who had been in 
school a year. At the same time, without knowing Hall's 
work, Hartmann tested children entering the Annaberg 
schools for fiv^e successive years. In 1893 ^i^^d 1894 
SeyfCert undertook a similar investigation in Zwickau; 
in 1898 Olsen tested five thousand six hundred pupils 
in Varde; and in 1903 and 1904 Engelsperger and Ziegler 
tested two hundred selected children entering the Munich 
schools. Finally, in 1909, Libby compared one boy 
from a good home, orphanage children, and public-school 
children, white and colored children. He also tested 
four hundred and eight boys and girls just entering 
high school. 

The methods of testing and questioning, as well as the 
lists, varied somewhat from study to study, and we 
should expect differences in the various reports due 
solely to environment. Nevertheless, the ignorance of 
various fundamental ideas is strikingly shown in all these 
studies, as is evidenced by the following list : 



164 



The Child 



Contents of Children's Minds on Entering School 
Percentage of Children Ignorant 





Berlin 


Hall 


Green- 
wood 


Hart- 
mann 


Olson's 
boys 


Hare (or rabbit) 


76 






84 


37 




Hen 




19 
50 
20,5 

87 


. I 
2.7 

■ 5 


72 
76 
51 

78 
77 
51 
41 
63 
88 


19 




Free 


50 


10 






Butterfly 


40 


30 




Pine tree 




65.6 


37 


Apple tree 














Flowers 








10 


Tempest 


22 








Rainbow 


23 

38 


65 - 

53-5 
56.5 


10.3 


10 


Sunset .... 


195 


64 




Sunrise 


70 


16.6 


72 


64 






Phases of moon 




46 


Days of week 








89 


37 




City hall 


64 






37 
35 


28 


Railway station 










Potato field 


37 


61 




46 


10 






Snow landscape 








58 


28 


Cube 


31 






61 


82 


Counting i to 10 








34 


10 






Coins 












Sickness 






42 


10 


God 








41 

86 


37 


Jesus 








73 


Father's name 


15 






39 


19 


and business 


II 















The original lists used are much larger and range over 
the real fom common religious and moral ideas as well. 
The lists were made from the words in reading books, 
the common objects in the child's environment, and the 
ideas necessary for him to have in order to understand 
the teaching of the first year in school. Certain infer- 
ences can plainly be drawn from them : 

I. The teacher cannot safely assume knowledge of any 
one thing on the part of all the pupils, and hence should 



Sensation and Perception 165 

start out with pupils just entering school by talking 
with them a great deal to find out what they do and do 
not know. Practically, Hartmann revised his lists until 
he got one which is used in the Annaberg schools twice 
a year, at the beginning and end, for the first-year chil- 
dren. He found that the children who did best in these 
tests were also the best in school work, and that by 
noting which groups of ideas the child knows best we 
can tell rather definitely his interests and ability. 
Accordingly, after the tests have been given to the 
children just entering, the children can be classified so 
that the teachers can fill up the gaps, and when the 
tests are given at the end of the year they can be 
reclassified. The best test-ideas in his opinion are: hare, 
hen, frog, butterfly, pine tree, flower, tempest, rainbow, 
moon phases, days of the week, child's home, city hall, 
railway station, potato field, snow landscape, cube, 
counting from i to 10, work in the field, baptism, coins, 
sickness, God, Jesus, certain localities. 

2. The best preparation for school training is plenty of 
contact with natural objects, and wise parents will see 
to it that children have playthings and possessions which 
give a wide range of sensory qualities. 

Bright, pure colors, and harmonious combinations of 
them, beautiful forms and sweet sounds, should be 
provided. For the hand, all sorts of objects, hard and 
soft, smooth and rough, accompanied by all the other 
touch qualities, should be supplied, and they should 
be of such a nature that they can go into the mouth 
without injury. A child must have objects to handle, 
even though we do object to having our nice things 
spoiled by hot little hands and wet mouths. If a 
child cannot handle things his knowledge of them is 
always imperfect, and so he must be provided with 



i66 The Child 

things that he can work over to his heart's content. 

Hall found that kindergarten children were distinctly 
better than those who had not had this training. 

In the lists given the children, country children were 
better than city children, but of course other lists might 
be made in which city children would excel. The funda- 
mental question, however, is: What ideas are of the most 
value? What ideas does the child need most in his daily 
life and in understanding what is going on about him? 

Perhaps, in the light of the above, we ought to say 
that what he most needs in the beginning are not ideas 
Kinder- SO much as all sorts of sensory-motor experi- 

garten ences, and that these need a careful setting 

and gradual interpretation by parents and teachers as 
the child's interests develop. The kindergarten and 
the Montessori system both undertake to fill this need 
after babyhood. The aims and methods of the kinder- 
garten are so well known that they need not be discussed 
here. The intuitive genius of Froebel saw many truths 
that psychology has rediscovered since, and the only 
regret that one can have is that — as is always the case 
— some of his followers violate his spirit to follow his 
letter. Instead of seeking and joyously accepting the 
rich material and methods now open to them, as Froebel 
himself would so gladly have done, they limit the children 
to the narrow range of Froebel's individual environment. 

The Montessori method and apparatus have been so 
widely advertised that they perhaps need more a sober 
Montessori second thought than a description. Dr. 
schools Montessori's training was chiefly with sub- 

normal children, and she herself expresses her great 
obligation to Itard and Seguin, two of the best known 
teachers of defective children. As her schools are con- 
ducted in Rome under her own direction, the method is 



Sensation and Perception 167 

briefly as follows: The parents agree to certain definite 
conditions before the children are accepted, and children 
are excluded who are dirty, not amenable to discipline, 
or whose parents fail to live up to the terms agreed on. 
The problem of discipline is thus much simpler than that 
of the public kindergarten or school. Children between 
three and seven years arc accepted, and are kept in the 
school from eight to nine hours, about two hours being 
spent in fonnal work, and the rest in preparing and 
serving meals, sleep, play, gymnastics, exercises of 
practical life — such as learning to dress and undress, 
washing, learning how to walk and sit, handle objects, 
and so on. In this long day, Dr. Montessori's ideal is 
that the children shall be left free to express themselves, 
the teacher's part being chiefly to observe each child 
carefully and to remove unobtrusively obstacles to this 
expression. The child takes the initiative instead of the 
teacher, and so no two children may be doing the same 
thing at the same time, and one child may do only one 
thing as long as he pleases. It is auto-education instead 
of education by the teacher. The results in these schools 
at least have been most happy. Not only are the children 
alert, happy, spontaneous, but they are graceful, skillful, 
and far beyond most children of their years in the knowl- 
edge acquired. Reading and writing are done easily by 
three- and four-year-olds, and they can take care of 
themselves and children a little younger in an astonishingly 
capable way. 

How are such results attained? Judging from the 
effective advertising in this country, they are due to the 
Montessori apparatus, and any teacher who 
chooses to pay the sum asked for this outfit, 
and to get a smattering of Dr. Montessori's theories in 
one way or another, can get the same results. Such 



i68 The Child 

claims are of course absurd, and it would not be surprising 
if on account of them there was a reaction against the 
entire system in this country within a few years. The 
Montessori "apparatus" consists of a large number 
of pieces like the following: little squares of fabrics, 
cotton, woolen, silk, linen, of different weaves; rough and 
smooth things, metals, and so on. For color there is a 
set of silks, with various shades of each color. There 
are also devices for teaching various figures, and insets 
of metal; sets of sandpaper letters and smooth paper 
letters. To teach other things there are two pieces of 
cloth and leather to be buttoned, hooked, laced. Most 
of the "apparatus," except the insets, any teacher could 
easily acquire at practically no cost by going through the 
rag bag, button box, china closet, writing desk, tool 
box, and carpenter's bench, and from time immemorial 
mothers have done this very thing. Why now should 
these be made into "apparatus" and patented under 
the strictest restrictions? The insets, again, though not 
in quite this form, have been used a long time in work 
with defective children. To one who looks over the 
"apparatus" with a view to seeing how much it leaves 
out in the way of sensory qualities, it seems astonishingly 
meager. Active touch is the best provided for, but it 
works upon small things entirely, and no provision is 
made for all the sensations from liquids or from many 
natural objects — such as dirt and sand, leaves of different 
kinds, the fur, feathers, and skin of different kinds of 
animals, and so on. Of course these are in many cases 
obtained in the schools, with the skilled teachers and 
beautiful surroundings of the schools of Rome. But 
how about the unskilled teacher in the public city school ? 
The ear has little provision made for it. The eye, of 
course, is used in all the handling of the materials, bu^ 



Sensation and Perception 169 

not in the tracing of the insets, and one wonders what 
is done to train visual observation. The colors provided 
are of doubtfiil purity. Altogether, if the system has 
to depend for its success upon the "apparatus," its future 
is more than doubtful. 

But its success in fact has been due to the personality 
and skill of Dr. Montessori herself and her coadjutors, 
to the freedom and the favorable surroundings, and to the 
fact that on account of the long hours the children can 
live nearly their whole waking life, with all its varied 
activities, under the influence of the teachers. The 
apparatus is relatively unimportant, and, in fact, in one 
school where its introduction was delayed for several 
months the children progressed almost as well as in the 
other schools. Dr. Montessori should have full credit 
for emphasizing again the importance of sense-training 
and of freedom of initiative, and for showing us what can 
be done by one who appreciates the importance of these 
two things, but all educators must regret that her theory 
has become so bound up with her apparatus that to the 
general public the two terms are almost synonymous. 

Furthermore, it is doubtful, pedagogically, whether 
normal children should be forced to acquire their sensory 
experiences in isolation. What is the relative educative 
value of these two experiences — one in which the child 
fingers a piece of woolen cloth and looks at the skein of 
red; and another in which the child plays with a red 
worsted ball? Objects, things which have uses to the 
child, which may acquire meaning, about which activities, 
emotions, ideals may focus, are infinitely more educative 
than scraps of cloth. And again, if these objects are 
those which the race has used and is using to satisfy 
its fundamental needs, surely there will be another edu- 
cative value added and an emotional response from the 



1 70 T h e C hi Id 

child which a skein of silk and a row of btittons will 
never extort. A bright red apple, a doll to dress, a splash 
in the tub, a race in the wind, the song of the trees and 
the birds — these are the child's life, not redness, buttoning, 
wetness, motion, pitch, and so on. Over-analysis is the 
bane of school work. The child is a whole child, and 
naturally deals with wholes. Only gradually do special 
interests and needs lead to analysis, and rarely do these 
interests demand the separation of one sensory quality 
from all others. Most of us deal with objects. The 
artist may look at objects as only splashes of color, and 
the musician may hear a melody as only differences of 
pitch, but such abstractions are far from the average 
adult, and much farther still from the child. 

To sum up the situation briefly, we must never forget 
that the senses and perception have developed in the 
service of living and that they will grow best when they 
get the most complete exercise in the normal activities of 
life, if only that life is a full, all-round life. An ideal 
home and school would complement each other, therefore, 
the two together covering the whole range of life activities, 
and the school of a given community would differ from 
those in other communities just as its homes do. 

REFERENCES 

The references of the preceding chapters, especially the studies of 
individual children, nearly all bear upon the use of the senses and 
perception. The discussions in the textbooks on psychology give 
the general theory of perception and apperception. 
Boyd, Wm. From Locke to Montessori. Holt and Co., 1914, 268 pp. 
Colvin, S. S., and Meyers. Imagination and Ideational Types 

. . . and various Sense Departments. Psy. Rev., Monog. 

Sup., 1909, Vol. XI, 85-126. 
Dell, J. A. The Gateways of Knowledge. Cambridge Univ. 

Press, 1912, 171 pp. 
The Learning of Sensible Material. Jour. Ed. Psy., 1912, 401-6. 
Fisher, Mrs. D. F. C. A Montessori Mother. Holt, 1912, 240 pp. 



Sensation and Perception 171 

Foster, W. S. Effect of Practice upon Visualizing. Jour. Ed. Psy., 

Jan. 1911, 11-21. 
George, Anne F. First Montessori School in America. McClure's, 

1912, 177-187. 
Gcsell, Arnold L. and Beatrice C. The Normal Child and Primary 

Education. Ginn, 19 12, 342 pp. (Very good discussion of 

touch.) 
Griffin, J. T. Practical Illustrations of the Law of Apperception. 

Ped. Sem., Sept. 19 12, 403-415. 
Hall, G. Stanley. Contents of Children's Minds. E. L. Kellogg 

& Co. $0.25. (Also in Aspects of Child Life.) 
Henmon, V. A. C. Relation between the Mode of Presentation and 

Retention. Psy. Rev., 1912, Vol. XIX, 79-95. 
Holmes, W. H. Montessori Methods. Education. Vol. XXXIII, 

1912, l-IO. 

Houdin, Robert. Memoirs. Phila., 1859. (Interesting as showing 

how he trained his power of observation.) 
Libby, Walter. Contents of Children's Minds. Ped. Sem., 1910, 

242-272. (Continues Hall's, and reports on later work, as 

well as his own.) 
Monroe, W. S. Perception of Children. Ped. Sem., 1904, 498-507. 
Moore, C. C. Treatise on Facts, or Weight and Value of Evidence. 

1908, 2 vols., 1612 pp. (A discussion of the defects in legal 

testimony, the errors in common observation, etc.) 
Peterson, Fred. Beginnings of Mind in the New Born. Btdl. 

of Lying-in Hospital. N. Y., Dec. 1910, 24 pp. (The most 

important article on condition of sense-organs at birth.) 
Sanford, E. C. Function of the Several Senses in the Mental Life. 

Am. Jour. Psy., Jan. 1912, 59-74. 
Smith, Anna T. Montessori System. Wash. Gov. Print., 1912, 

30 pp. 
Smith, Theodate L. Montessori System. Harper, 19 12, 77 pp. 
Stevens, Ellen Yale. Guide to the Montessori Method. Stokes, 

1913, 240 pp. 

Tozier, Josephine. Montessori Apparatus. McClure's, 1912, 

289-302. 
Ward, Florence E. The Montessori Method and the American 

School. Macmillan, 1913, 231 pp. Bibliog. 
(The German and French studies on testimony (Atissage, 

temoignage) , referred to in the chapter on memory, also have 

important bearings on perception.) 



CHAPTER VIII 

Memory 

1. In getting data from adults, have them write out 
their earliest memory. In doing so they should state (i) 
the age at the time of the event; (2) how they know that 
the memory is true and not obtained merely from some 
one else's account; (3) what influence it had, if any, 
upon their later life. 

2. Teachers can get practical suggestions by testing 
the pupils in any given room to see what subjects taught 
they remember best, and for how long. In giving such 
tests the essential thing is that they shall be unexpected, 
so that the pupils have no chance to prepare for them. 

3. Modifications of the Aussage tests described in the 
chapter are easily given and suggestive. 

When a baby sees or hears or has any other sensation, 
however vague it is, there is still some modification of 
Memory and his brain, some chemical change in the 
sensation structure of his nerve cells, and this change 
remains when the sensation has passed away. When two 
senses are appealed to at once or in close succession, as in 
seeing the breast and nursing, two or more brain centers 
are affected, and for some unknown reason fibers of 
connection are likely to form between them. When 
this has happened a number of times, so that the fibers 
are well established, the baby begins to show signs of recog- 
nition. This happened as early as the twenty-second 
day with Preyer's boy. 

We also find memory showing itself faintly in another 

172 



Memory 173 

way when the baby turns to look for some object that 
has just moved out of sight. Here there has hardly 
been time for the retinal activity that was roused by 
the object itself to die out; the memory has persisted 
only a short time after the sensation, but still there is 
the beginning of memory. 

These first traces left by sensations upon the brain 
are sometimes called organic memories. They are not 
mental pictures of past events, but they Organic 
make it possible for a baby to do with memories 
greater ease the acts which at first were very imperfect. 
For example, the first step in moving the eyes simulta- 
neously is thus made possible. 

Organic memory is what makes the earliest percep- 
tions possible. We have seen already that perception 
differs from pure sensation, since in it the perception 
sensation has become bound up with other and organic 
sensations, or rather with the traces of ^^"^^'^y 
other sensations. The binding is done by organic mem- 
ory. The nerve centers receive a stimulus differ- 
ently when they have already been modified by previous 
stimuli. They now contain within themselves the 
changes caused by previous seeing or hearing, and so are 
better prepared to receive again the same sight or sound 
or one Hke it. It is very much like getting acquainted 
with a person. The first time we meet him, we are rather 
formal, and the interchange of thought is not very free; 
the second time it is freer, and so on. So the brain cell 
does not respond readily at first, but later is more easily 
aroused. 

The same thing occurs in forming a habit, except that 
the process is more complicated. Usually we limit the 
term "habit" to series of movements, but we also hear 
the term "habits of thought," and we seem to fonn habits 



174 The Child 

of thought much as we do habits of action. Perception — 
seeing objects as soHds and as distant, as having character- 
Organic ^^^^^ tastes and touches and sounds — is simply 
memory and the most inveterate mental habit formed, and 
is much the same for all people. Other asso- 
ciations, such as connecting a certain dress or place with 
a certain person, are also mental habits, but they vary 
greatly with different persons, and they usually call into 
play memory images as well as organic memories. 

In the case of habitual movements, we saw that a 
baby soon learns to put his hands to his mouth; he gets 
a connection established between the feeling of his arms 
when they move in a certain way and the pleasure from 
sucking his thumb. Any movements that occur simulta- 
neously or in quick succession, if they are repeated often 
enough, and are pleasurable or aid in reaching some 
end, will thus become connected and form an habitual 
series. Then any one movement in the series will call out 
the next, this the next, and so on. 

Such a habit is an organic memory in the baby. He 
has few or no distinct images, but certain connections 
have been fonned between certain nervous centers. 
The same is true of the adult, in such cases as learning 
to ride a wheel. It would be impossible for us to describe 
the various positions that we must assume in order 
to keep our balance, and yet our nerve cells have learned 
their lesson so well that we rarely get a tumble. The 
education of the spinal cord and brain centers to perform 
long series of movements accurately goes on apace by 
means of organic memory, that is, by means of the 
changes made in the nerve cells and their connections, 
which persist and modify their future action. All this, 
it must be understood, takes place at least below the 
level of clear consciousness, and often below the level 



Memory 175 

of consciousness itself, in the subconscious processes. 

Habits, then, may be formed in the baby or small 
child simply by regularity in the conditions about him 
— regularity in his meals, in the kinds of food given 
him, in his hours of sleep and waking, in everything 
in his daily life. The rapid growth of his nerve cells 
makes education and the acquirement of habits espe- 
cially easy. 

With the older child and the adult habits are also 
formed voluntarily as well as involuntarily. We decide 
that we want to learn carpentry or embroidery, or that 
we will learn to tell the truth or to acquire some other 
virtue. Here we must in the first place keep the end 
that we wish to attain so clearly before us that old asso- 
ciations cannot besiege us or forgetfulness overtake us. 
A desire to reach some end is so essential that it is of 
little use to force a child to do daily a thing that he 
dislikes. The pain which he constantly connects with 
the act or the study is so much stronger than the other 
connections that are established that even after years of 
discipline the habit falls off within a month or two when 
external pressure is removed. We all know that a 
teacher who wakes herself at six o'clock for nine months 
of the year will sleep until eight through the summer 
vacation, after only two or three mornings of wakefulness. 
So a child forced to go through certain mental or bodily 
movements for which he feels only dislike drops them 
as soon as restraint is taken away. 

There is one possible exception here when a child 
has a prejudice toward a study or act, but finds it pleas- 
urable when he actually begins it. In such a case a 
habit may be formed, but not unless the original dislike 
yields to a later pleasure or to a recognition of the value 
of the habit. When a habit has been formed, the first 



176 The Child 

clear attention which was necessary for its performance 
is no longer required. The nerve centers have learned 
their lesson. 

Just because a habit of thought or action frees the 
mind for higher things, it is important that a child 
Importance should at an early age acquire the largest 
of good possible number of good habits which he 

"^"'*^ will not need to unlearn later. It is un- 

pardonable for parents so to neglect a child that when 
he is twelve or fourteen years old he has to spend his 
time in learning regular habits of eating, habits of cleanli- 
ness — all those habits which relieve him from constant 
thought of his bodily wants and make social intercourse 
easy. The boy of this age has before him the more 
important task of fomiing habits of moral thought and 
action. He is shaping his ideal of character, and he 
ought not to have to struggle constantly over these little 
things which a small child learns so easily. 

It is one of the important tasks of parents therefore 
to see to it that the little child grows insensibly into 
good habits of taking care of his body, and into the 
social habit of considering others equally with himself. 

From another standpoint we can see how deep the 
traces of our early experiences go when we consider 
Earliest °^^ earliest recollections. It has always 

recollec- been of much interest to men to ascertain 

**°"^ how far back their memories go, and it is 

also of interest to teachers and parents to know whether 
the experiences of infancy and early childhood will be 
remembered by the adult. 

Sometimes we find a person who claims to remember 
an event occurring in the first year of life, but few of 
us can go back of the fourth year. Even then we are 
likely to confuse true memory with descriptions that 



Memory 177 

have been given to us. Do events previous to the fourth 
year, then, have no effect upon later Ufe? On the con- 
trary, in those important years many things have been 
acquired — notably walking and talking — -which through 
constant practice are never forgotten, and it seems 
probable that these early experiences leave traces upon 
the growing mind and brain that determine to a large 
extent the emotional temperament of the child — the 
likes and dislikes, which either direct him well or must 
be fought and conquered with much effort later on. The 
observations of the Freudians on morbid cases are very 
suggestive here. It is well known that if a little child 
receive a severe fright, fear is likely to persist far into 
adult life, although the person forget the occasion that 
gave rise to the fear. The image is lost, but the organic 
and emotional effects persist. Dr. G. Stanley Hall tells 
us that upon visiting the farm where he lived until one 
and one-half years old, the feeling of famiHarity was 
strong, and at special places a decided emotional tone 
arose, without any knowledge of what experience was 
connected with that place. We have other records of 
adults going to places connected with babyhood or 
early childhood of which they had never been told and 
having this same emotional tone and feeling of familiar- 
ity. Most interesting is the following anecdote told of 
Helen Keller. She became deaf and blind when about 
one and one-half years old. Before that time her father 
used to sing to her, especially two plantation songs of 
which she was very fond. One day, when she was a 
girl of eighteen and had been taught to speak, and was 
at the piano "feeling the music," those songs were played 
to her. At first she was • bewildered, and painfully 
excited; then she repeated some of the words of one of 
the songs. There were evidently connections between 



178 The Child 

the touch center and the auditory and word centers, such 
that these dispositions, left from the first year and a 
half of life, could be revived. There are other cases also 
of disease bringing back memories of very early childhood. 

Now, if this be generally true, the first four years of 
life are as important educationally as any that succeed, 
or rather, they are more important. Nothing else can 
be so important as to start a child out in life with good 
health and with a healthy equipment of emotions and 
habitual actions. That these cannot be supplied by 
talk, is evident. Example is the only teacher. Every- 
thing that is given to the child should be of such a character 
that the feelings and actions aroused by it can be the 
basis for the finer emotions and actions that come later. 
He should live in an atmosphere of trust and confidence, 
where there is no fretting and worry, much less dislike 
and hate. The music and stories that are given him should 
cultivate the positive, serene, fearless, high-minded 
attitudes. I have seen some little children whose con- 
fidence and joy were such as to make one believe almost 
anything possible in this direction. We must be sure 
that our children's restlessness and whining are not simply 
the reflection of our own worry and cowardice before we 
can assert the powerlessness of early surroundings to 
shape the very little child. 

So far, memory has been considered principally as a 
matter of the changes in nerve centers, but in its narrower 
Development i^^^aning memory includes rather the mental 
of memory side — the revival in consciousness of some 
images previous experience. How this conscious 

revival of an experience develops is what we wish to trace 
now. Preyer's observations on this point may be given 
in full here, as most other observers agree substantially 
with him. The first memory image is one of taste. 



Memory 179 

followed by smell, touch, sight, and hearing, in the 
order given. On the twcnty-seeond day, his boy asso- 
ciated the breast with nursing, as was shown by his 
movements. During the second and third months, the 
presence of strange faces excited wonder, but the absence 
of famiHar faces was not noticed. The memory for 
faces was the first visual memory. In the twenty- 
fourth week, the baby saw his father's image in the 
mirror and at once turned to look at his father, evidently 
recognizing the image. In the twenty-sixth week, he 
repeated this, and compared the face with the image, 
turning from one to the other several times, but he had 
as yet little distinct memory. In the seventh month, 
he did not recognize his nurse after an absence of four 
weeks. Not until the forty-third week did he miss his 
parents when they were absent, or miss a favorite toy 
when it was gone. Another observer says that one little 
girl of ten months recognized her father after four days' 
absence. Perez also quotes the case of a child seven or 
eight months old who very much wanted a piece of 
bread that looked like some favorite cake. When he 
tasted it, he threw it away angrily, showing that he had 
an image of the taste of the cake, with which the reality 
did not agree. 

In the fifty-seventh and fifty-eighth weeks, in looking 
at the image in the mirror and at a picture of himself, 
Preyer's boy apparently recognized both and passed 
his hands to the back of each, much puzzled by the 
differences he saw. Evidently the memory was becoming 
more distinct and detailed. In the sixtieth week he 
recognized his mother's image as different from the 
reality. 

In the sixty-first week, he burned his finger in the 
candle, after which he never put it in again, though he 



i8o The Child 

would jokingly make movements in that direction. 
The memory image of the pain was well developed, 
though memories as a rule were not stable. In the 
twenty-third month, he recognized the playthings from 
which he had been parted nearly three months, which 
proves him well started toward the development of 
imagination. 

In these first experiences the baby's memory is very 
vague. As James says, his world is a "big, blooming. 
Freeing of buzzing confusion," whose parts have to 
memory be made distinct from each other and shaped 

images -^^^ distinct, unified objects. One certain 

experience, like being fed, is repeated under many con- 
ditions — now in light, and now in darkness, now in one 
room and now in another. The two constant things, 
that his mother is always there and that his hunger is 
always satisfied, by their constant repetition and great 
satisfaction become impressed upon him, so that he 
soon recognizes his mother. Take also his recognition 
of his mother's face. At first certainly it is to him only 
a light patch against a darker background, moving from 
one place to another. But as he sees more distinctly 
and is able to follow it with his eyes, he learns that all the 
different appearances, side and front and back views, 
belong to his mother's face, and the constant repetition 
of that face with its accompaniment of increased comfort 
soon teaches him to recognize it apart from any one place 
or time. In brief, the memory image becomes freed 
from memories of any particular time and place by 
having the one constant experience — the mother's face 
— in many times and places. This is the usual experience. 

When psychologists use the term "image," they mean 
any revival of a former experience in a form distinct 
enough for us to look at it mentally and describe it. The 



Memory i8i 

revival of the sound of a piano, of the color of a sunset, 
of the taste and smell of coffee, of the "feel" of velvet, 
and of the exertion of running or stretching, are all 
equally images. If we place these in some definite time 
when we experienced them, we say the Memory 

image is a memory image ; while if we combine images 

them in new forms, we approach imagination. Memory 
images, that is, reproduce our past life in much the same 
form as we lived it; imagination makes new combinations. 

Images are evidently derived in the first place, there- 
fore, from our sense-life; that is, we get our materials 
of knowledge through the special sense organs — the eye, 
ear, skin, nose, tongue, and the movements of the muscles. 
The feelings aroused in this way directly by objects, we 
call sensations or perceptions of sight, sound, touch, 
smell, taste and movement; and when, in the absence of 
the object, the sensation or perception is revived or 
remembered, we have images of sight, sound, and so on, 
or, to use the Latin terms, visual, auditory, tactile, 
olfactory, gustatory, and motor images. 

If you recall your childhood's home, you will prob- 
ably get good examples of most of these. You can 
see in your mind's eye the old house, its various rooms 
and the people in them (visual); you can hear your 
mother's voice (auditory); you can taste some especial 
food that she excelled in cooking (gustatory); you can 
probably smell some characteristic flavor or garden 
product or perhaps some medicine that you had to 
take (olfactory); you can feel your mother's kiss or, 
perhaps, some whipping or spanking you received; and 
you will probably find that almost all 3^our memories of 
the place are bound up with your feelings of movement 
about it, climbing trees and haymow, and so on. 

Which of these classes of images is most common, and 



i82 The.Child 

whether or not there is any relation between the ideational 

type and the best memories are important questions for 

teachers. Schuyten, Netschajeff, Lobsien, 

^^^^ Lay, Colvin, Meyer, and others have 

common -^ . •' 

made observations which give valuable 
suggestions. Very few of them bear upon little children, 
especially those who cannot yet read and write with 
ease, but there is some evidence to indicate that for such 
children auditory- verbal images are the most common, 
and that oral instruction is best for them. Rousselle 
even advocates that at first children shall be allowed 
to study aloud. From eight or nine years on, however, 
the auditory image decreases relatively to the others, 
and various spelling tests indicate that it can be omitted 
in learning to spell without materially adding to the 
errors, and that the best results are obtained by a 
combination of visual and motor imagery. Netschajeff 
and Lobsien, who used similar methods on children 
between eight and eighteen years of age, got similar 
results. Netschajeff (687 children) found that only 
1 1 per cent of his boys had any one strongly predominant 
type of imagery; of the mixed type, 32 per cent were 
visual-motor; 5 per cent motor-acoustic, and 2 per cent 
visual-acoustic. The other 40 per cent seemed to use 
various forms with about equal ease. Both he and 
Lobsien found the greatest relative increase in memory 
between ten and twelve years. Their experiments, and 
also those of Colvin and Meyers, seem to prove that 
from eight years to ten, at least, the predominant type 
of imagery is visual and concrete. As we go up the 
grades this is replaced by verbal imagery and more 
abstraction. Motor and auditory imagery are of less 
importance than has been assumed, and in some cases 
may be a positive hindrance to learning. 



Memory 183 

The educational inferences are fairly evident. The 
so-called imaginal or ideational types are not as inborn 
and distinct as we have .supposed, but depend largely 
upon the character of the training. If we consider how 
far ahead of the other senses sight is in bringing us knowl- 
edge, it seems inevitable that visual images shall pre- 
dominate over the others, just as it does that what is 
first learned through a given sense is best retained in the 
same image form. There are doubtless some exceptions 
here in the case of learning highly abstract demonstra- 
tions, but not in remembering perceptual experiences. 

More important for remembering than the image type 
are interest and attention. These may rest either upon 
an instinctive basis or may be artificially 
stimulated by the conditions under which the' 
child lives. A child may be highly interested in anything 
by attaching to it rewards, approbation, punishment, 
and so on, but here again it is the work of the school to 
ascertain what natural interests can be made most useful 
in life, and to develop them, while at the same time ignor- 
ing or transforming those which are now useless or harmful. 

In 1885 the experiments of Ebbinghaus on memory 
were published, in which the attempt was made to state 
exactly the facts of remembering and for- Laws of 
getting. They have stimulated many exper- forgetting 
iments both upon memory and upon the learning process, 
and though they have been corrected in various ways by 
later work they should be mentioned on account of 
their historical interest. We now have a large body of 
facts obtained both from adults and children on the 
basis of which we may give this general account of remem- 
bering: In the case of nonsense material, about three 
fourths is remembered one hour after learning; and 
about one half eight hours after. But between eight 



184 T h e C hil d 

hours and one day there is a rise to about two thirds and 
from then on a fairly regular forgetting, till on the thirtieth 
day about one fifth is remembered. There are wide 
individual variations in forgetting, as we should expect. 
The difficulty of remembering seems to bear a fairly 
regular relation to the length of the nonsense series, 
and does not increase disproportionately more in the 
longer series, as was at first supposed. 

Sense material, of course, requires less repetition than 
does nonsense, but the general law of forgetting is the same. 
Individual differences are greater here, but, in general, 
the one who learns easily forgets easily, because he gets 
fewer repetitions. Practice in learning tends to equalize 
all, and the slow learner may become more rapid by 
concentrating attention more, while the rapid learner 
may become more thorough by more repetitions. 

The method of committing to memory must vary more 
or less with the material to be committed. If it is rela- 
Method of tively short and easy, the best way is to 
repetition repeat the whole each time, as this gives all 
the proper connections. If it is long, however, the 
middle part is likely to be forgotten sooner than the 
rest, because by the time it is reached attention flags and 
there is not yet the stimulus of being near the end. In 
such a case, especially if some parts are more difficult 
than others, the best way seems to be to divide the 
material and learn it in parts, but with every now and 
then a reading of the whole. Again, to secure permanent 
retention, if the material is not very easy relatively few 
repetitions on successive days will secure better results 
than will many repetitions on one day. This seems to be 
due to the fact that time is essential in order for impres- 
sions to become set and assimilated. 

This same fact is of importance in another connection, 



M c m o r y 185 

in giving an interval of five or ten minutes between 
recitations, in which attention shall be left entirely free. 
Some experiments indicate that when this Free 
is done in school work the different lessons intervals 

are better remembered than when attention is immedi- 
ately forced from one subject to another. On this 
account it is well in the case of individual pupils to 
have recitation and study periods alternate if possible. 

In general, children fatigue more readily than adults, 
have less attention, and so can recall less readily and 
require more repetitions than adults. 

In learning anything, and more especially in learning 
anything requiring motor functions, such as using a 
typewriter or telegraphic key, learning goes Learning 
on rapidly at first and then more slowly, plateau 
until a level is reached where no improvement is apparent. 
If practice be kept up, a time comes when there is a 
sudden rise in skill and speed, followed by the same 
slowing down and apparent cessation of improvement, 
and later another rise. These levels or plateaus are due 
to different causes. Sometimes they indicate that the 
person is assimilating what has been learned and has no 
extra energy and attention to use on new things. Some- 
times, again, they indicate that the limit of skill with the 
old method has been reached and there will never be 
more improvement unless new methods are found. Or, 
again, there may be a let-down of interest and attention, 
and the subject may run along on old habits. 

In general, in the learning process the more individual 
and shorter elements are organized into larger and larger 
wholes, and to do this attention is necessary all the time, 
but repetition must also be sufficient to fix the various 
factors. All of the subjects soon find a rhythm of repe- 
tition which greatly aids them. 



i80 



The L Ji i I d 



Schuyten's tests on school children suggest that memory 
is better in spring and summer than in fall and winter, 
and that the most intelligent children have the best 
memories, though sometimes the stupid ones may excel 
in mere verbal memory. 

Mr. Jacobs and Mrs. Bryant took up one of the details 
of Ebbinghaus's work and experimented with school chil- 
Memory dren to ascertain how long a scries could be 

sp^" learned with one repetition; how the span of 

memory (that is, the length of series thus learned) varied 
with age, and what relation it bore to the pupil's rank in 
school. They used digits, omitting 7, and letters, omitting 
w, as more uniform in sound than nonsense syllables. 
They give the following table for the span of girls. 



Age 

No. girls 


8 
8 


9 
13 

6.7 

7 


10 
19 

6.8 
6.6 


II 
36 

7.2 
4.6 


12 
41 

7-4 
6.5 


13 
42 

7-3 
6.7 


14 
42 

7-3 
6.7 


72 

7.7 
7-4 


16 
66 

8 
7-9 


17 
50 

8 

7-3 


18 
30 

8.6 
8.2 


19 
14 


No. nos. 
No. let'rs 


6.6 
6 


8.6 
8.9 



This shows that the span increases with age. They 
found also that the children with the largest spans were 
usually those whom the teachers classed as their best 
students, although there were some exceptions. Bolton 
also found that the highest span is a measure of the 
power of attention; but he puts the limit of the memory 
span for numbers at six for public-school pupils. The 
span for girls is also higher than for boys. All observers 
find that the girls' memory is better than the boys'. 

Kirkpatrick experimented upon pupils from the pri- 
mary grade through college to find what kind of memory 
Objects: images were best held. To do this, he first 

words made three lists, two of ten words each, and 

one of common objects, avoiding associations as much as 
possible. One list was read to the pupils; the words of 



Memory 187 

the second were shown one by one upon the board; and 
the objects named in the third Hst were shown. The 
pupils were then asked to write out as many words in 
each Hst as possible. It was found that 6.85 words out 
of the ten in the hst heard were recalled; 6.92 of the ten 
in the list seen; and 8.28 of the objects seen; that is, the 
auditory memorj'' was poorest; the visual memory of the 
word next, and the memory of the object itself the best. 

The memory of the college students was but two 
words better than that of the primary children. 

They were then given three more lists of words. The 
first consisted of names of sounds, and the pupils were 
asked to think of the sound; the second, of names of 
colors, or lights and shades, and they were asked to 
think of them; the third, of names of objects, and they 
were asked to recall the object. They were then asked 
to write out the lists. The results show that 6.98 names 
out of the ten in the first list were recalled; 7.91 of the 
ten in the second; and 7.48 of the ten in the third. That 
is, the visual images of colors, or lights and shades were 
slightly better than the auditory images of sounds, or 
the memories of objects. 

After three days, they were asked to write out what 
they could recall of the first three lists, with the start- 
ling result that .91 of list two, and 6.29 of list three 
were recalled. That is, while the visual memory-average 
of the words had declined to less than one word, from 
the original 6.92, the memory-average of the object 
itself was lessened only by two from that immediately 
after the experience. There could hardly be a stronger 
illustration of the superiority of things to words in early 
education, and of the activity of the senses and its effects 
upon memory. 

The characteristic age differences and those between 



i88 The Child 

boys and girls, as shown by Netschajeff's tests and 
Lobsien's duplication of them, are as follows: Nctschajcff 
Memory tested 687 boys and girls between nine and 

and sex eighteen years of age. Twelve objects were 

shown silently for two seconds, and the pupils wrote 
down as much as they could remember. Then twelve 
inarticulate noises were made; twelve numbers were 
spoken; twelve names of visual objects; twelve sound 
names; twelve suggesting touch, temperature, muscular 
sense, teaching, feeling, and abstract ideas. Lobsien had 
462 boys and girls nine to fourteen years of age and had 
only nine in a series. Both agree that memory increases 
with age, but differ in the placing of it. Lobsien found 
a marked increase for all forms about the twelfth year 
in the girls and for number, touch, sotind, and feeling 
names for boys in the tenth year. Netschajefif found, 
however, that the increase in memory of feeling names 
does not come until puberty for boys and girls, and 
about the same time memory of abstract ideas rises 
also. Both boys and girls remember objects better 
than names, but girls have better memories of words 
with feeling connotation and boys of those more abstract. 
The greatest differences between boys and girls, in 
Netschajeff's tests, come between eleven and fourteen. 
The Aussage tests of Stern and his students bring out 
still other aspects of memory. He showed for one 
Aussage minute to 47 boys and girls, two to eighteen 

tests years of age, a brightly colored picture of a 

farmer's living room. First he asked them simply to 
tell what they had seen {Bericht), and when he was cer- 
tain they could remember no more, he questioned them 
(Verhor), some of the questions being intentionally 
misleading or suggestive. He found three distinct 
stages varying with the age. With the younger children. 



Memory 189 

objects were simply named, often without the use of 
sentences; with the next older, acts or movements were 
described chiefly; while with the older the qualities and 
relations of the persons and things shown were given. 
That is, the younger children used chiefly nouns; the 
middle ones, verbs; and the older, adjectives and preposi- 
tions. In the spontaneous account (Bericht), on the 
average 94 per cent of what was given was correct, but 
only two fifths of what was remembered came sponta- 
neously, the other three fifths coming from questions. The 
amount given spontaneously doubles between seven and 
fourteen years and triples between seven and eighteen. 

With regard to the suggestive questions, the most 
interesting thing is that between seven and fifteen the 
ability to withstand suggestion is doubled. In answering 
non-suggestive questions, age seems to make little differ- 
ence as to correctness, and in the spontaneous narrative 
the pupils graded high in class make the best records. 
In answering non-suggestive questions, the percentage of 
error with different experimenters varies from 20 to 27 
per cent only. Stern believes that this percentage will 
be found fairly constant for both sexes and all ages, and 
that it stands for a general law of memory which may 
be thus stated: The degree of error in a memory is in a 
constant relation to its quantity. Various other experi- 
ments have been made to duplicate conditions in actual 
life, such as the subjects would be under if they were 
called upon to testify in court, but these we will omit. 

As we should expect, experiments by Borst and 
Oppenheim show that the accuracy of the memory 
can be improved by training, but the im- Training 

provement is not very great in these par- memory 

ticular tests and seems to depend on improving attention 
or methods of observation of the objects. Experiments 
13 



190 The Child 

by Winch indicate that improvement in one form of 
memory may be followed by improvement in another. 
Thus, children given practice in learning poetry improved 
in learning history and geography, and children given 
practice in memorizing stories improved in inventing 
stories. These experiments have been questioned, but it 
is rather difficult to see why such results might not be at- 
tained in so far as the various processes tested all involve 
improvement of attention or of methods of observation. 

Taking into consideration interest as well as age, 
Colegrove found that during the period from one to five, 
Age and visual, auditory, and motor memories are 

memory ygj-y prominent. From the fifth to the 

ninth year, the motor memories of girls increase markedly 
but decrease from ten on; in boys, they increase slowly 
from five on, culminating at fifteen. In both cases we 
trace directly the effect of habits of life. Girls, after the 
tenth year, usually exercise much less freely than before, 
while boys after that age constantly increase the amount 
of exercise. 

From ten to eleven, both boys' and girls' memories 
for near relatives increase; and from twelve to thirteen, 
decrease, but increase for all acquaintances, marking 
the entrance into wider social relationships so charac- 
teristic of adolescence. Between fourteen and fifteen, 
the visual and auditory memories of both increase greatly 
and also memories of places, doubtless marking the 
beginning of a wider aesthetic sense. 

If the above statements are correct, is it not a mis- 
take to postpone manual training, sewing, and so on. 
Educational to the high-school age? Should we not, 
applications rather, put them at the time when the motor 
brain regions are so active, as this abundance of memories 
proves them to be? Again, what is to be done with the 



Memory 191 

child of the third grade when memory is comparatively 
poor? We saw before that this is one of the periods of 
rapid growth. Is it a time when school work should be 
lightened? That the auditory memories are best in 
children under fourteen, points to the value of beginning 
the study of languages early, and any work that demands 
memorizing and has little reasoning connected with it. 
With adults, the best way to memorize is to get a focus 
of interest around which memories can cluster. With 
the child this plan too should be followed. 

Finally, the widening of memories for friends and 
aesthetic objects between fourteen and fifteen, points to 
the importance of widening the child's experience in 
both these lines. In all cases, we seem to see the close 
connection between interests and memory.. 

In a former chapter we spoke of the effect of fatigue 
and health upon memory, showing that in proportion 
as health was poor or fatigue was great. Conditions 
memory diminished. Health and freshness of good 
are, then, two conditions for a good mem- memory 
ory. On the mental side, to train a child's memory, 
take up a subject when his memory for that class of 
things is best and so present it that he shall feel its close 
connection with his own life and shall be on the qui vive 
to get information about it. Knowledge so obtained has 
many interconnections and holds together well. No 
other will endure. 

Mothers and teachers not infrequently find certain 
mental peculiarities in their children that they do not 
know the significance of and are in doubt Unusual 
how to treat. Among these are "colored conditions 
hearing," and number, word, and time forms. Quite a 
large proportion of people connect certain colors with 
certain sounds, or with certain words or letters. The 



192 



The Child 



high notes of a violin may seem pale blue; the resonant 
trumpet tone, blood red, and so on. Each letter of the 

alphabet may have its 
characteristic color, or 
all the vowels, or only 
names of persons. It 
is practically impossible 
in many cases to find 
the origin of these va- 
rious associations, but 
they may go back to 







xv>o 



Diagram 4. Nuiviber Form of 
Mr. Walter Larden, Form- 
erly of Cheltenham College, 
England. The Faint Lines 

ARE to show the PERSPECTIVE. 

(Galton.) 

very early memories, 
or they may be due 
to unusual congenital 
connections between 
the brain centers con- 
cerned. They do not 
mark any mental ab- 
normality, and it is 
not wise to ridicule a 
child who has them. 



a« 



dP 



50 



eo 



50 



Diagram 5. An Hereditary Number Form 
Common to a Brother and Sister. (Galton.) 



To him they are perfectly natural. 
Number, calendar, and alphabet forms are much more 



Memory 



193 



common. It is estimated that of men one sixth to one 
fifteenth possess some kind of fomi, and of children and 
women a larger proportion. In all such cases, the num- 
bers, days, or letters 
are arranged in a defi- 
nite form in which the 
person always sees 
them. The diagram 
may be colored or not. 
Several forms are 
shown in Diagrams 4 
to 9. This form is the 




8 10 11 



10 



Diagram 6. Number Form of 
Prof. Schuster, an English 
Physicist. The Numbers 
are on a Kind of Horse- 
shoe LYING ON A Slightly 
Inclined Plane. (Galton.) 




Diagram 7. A Complex Num- 
ber Form made up of Dots 
Running up to 1,000. In 10, 
etc., the Odd Dot may ap- 
pear at Any of the Corners 
Marked X. (Galton.) 

same for the same per- 
son from year to year. 
It seems so necessary 
to the person that he can hardly imagine how he could 
do without it. It varies from the simplest arrangement 
to exceedingly complex ones of definite shapes, in which 
each number has its place. 

Here, also, the origin is difficult to trace. In some cases 



Diagram 8. An Hereditary Number Form 
Showing Peculiarities which run through 
A whole Family. 



194 



The Child 



it seems to be hereditary — several successive generations 
having the same form. In others, its origin is hidden 
in obscurity. As with the colored hearing, it docs not 
mark any abnonnality, and the best policy is to leave it 
alone. On the other hand, one attempt at least has 
been made to teach a number form to all children, but 
the wisdom of this is questionable. 




Diagram g. Number Form of a Gentleman who learned to tell the Time 

AT a Very Early Age. The Most Prominent Numbers are those found 

IN THE Multiplication Table, especially 12. (Galton.) 

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Radestock, Paul. Habit. Heath, Boston, 1902, 117 pp. 
Radossawljewitsch, P. R. Das Behalten u. Vergessen bei Kindern u. 



iqS The Child 

Erwachsenen nach experimenlellen Untersuchungen. Ncmnich, 

Leipzig, 1907, 197 pp. 
Rowe, Stuart H. Habit Formation. Longmans, 1909, 308 pp. 
Shaw, J. C. Test of Memory in School Children. Fed. Sent., 

Oct. 1896, Vol. IV, 61-78. 
Sleight, W. G. Memory and Formal Training. Brit. Jour. Psy., 

1911, 386-457. 
Smith, T. L. On Muscular Memory. Am. Jour. Psy., July 1896, 

Vol. VII, 453-490. 
Smith, W. G. The Place of Repetition in Memory. Psy. Rev., 

1896, Vol. Ill, 21-31. 
The Relation of Attention to Memory. Mind, 1895, N. S., 

Vol. IV., 47-74. 
Starch, D. Periods of Work in Learning. Jour. Ed. Psy., 1912, 

209-213. 
Stern, W., and Clara. Erinnertmg, Atissage und Liige in der Ersten 

Kindheit. Barth, Leipzig, 1909, 162 pp. 
Study of Memory, Class of 19 10, Fitchburg Normal, 28 pp. 
Swift, E. J. Acquisition of Technical Skill in Typewriting. Psy. 

Bull., 1904, 295-305. 
Beginning a Language. Houghton, Mifflin, 1906, 411 pp. 
Psychology and Physiology of Learning. Am. Jour. Psy., 

1903, 200-251. 
Mind in Making. Scribner's, 1908, 329 pp. 
Tait, W. D. Effect of Psycho-physical Attitudes on Memory. 

Am. Jour. Psy., Apr.-May 1913, 10-37. Bibliog. 
Educational Psychology. Chap. 8, 80-93. 
Thorndike, E. L. Memory for Paired Associates. Psy. Rev., 1908, 

Vol. XV, 122-138. 
The Effect of Practice in the Case of a Purely Intellectual 

Function. Am. Jour. Psy., 1908, Vol. XIX, 374-384. 
Thorndike, E. D., and Woodworth, R. S. The Influence of Improve- 
ment in One Mental Function upon the Efficiency of Other 

Functions. Psy. Rev., 1901, Vol. VIII, 247-261. 
Winch, W. H. Immediate Memory in School Children. Brit. 

Jour. Psy., 1904-5, Vol. I, 127-134; 1906-7, Vol. II, 

52-57. 
Transfer of Improvement in Memory. Brit. Jour. Psy., 1910- 
II, 386-405. 
Woodworth, R. S. The Accuracy of a Voluntary Movement. 
Psy. Rev., Monog. Sup., Vol. Ill, No. 2, 1-114. 



Memory 199 

The Causes of a Voluntary Movement. Studies in Philosophy 
and Psychology by Former Students of Charles Garman. 
Boston and N. Y., 411 pp. Chapter 12. 

Number Forms 
Calkins, M. W. Am. Jour. Psy., Vol. V, 269-271. 
Galton, Francis. Inquiries into Human Faculty. Section on 

Number Forms. Macmillan. $4.00. 
Hornbrook, Adelia R. Pedagogical Value of Number Forms. 

Ed. Rev., May 1893, Vol. V, 467-480. 
Krohn, Wm. O. Pseudochronesthesia. Am. Jour. Psy., Vol. 

V, 20-38. (Historical resume and bibliography; good.) 
Patrick, G. T. W. Number Forms. Pop. Sc. Mo., Feb. 1893. 
Phillips, D. E. Genesis of Number Forms. Am. Jour. Psy., 

July 1897, Vol. VIII, 506-527. (Good.) 
For studies in the correctness of testimony both in children and 
adults, see especially the Beitrdge zur Psychologic der Aussage, 
edited by Stern, which contains little but this. Stern also has a 
brief article in English, Am. Jour. Psy., 1910, 270-277, and Whipple 
one in ^53^. Bull., 1909, 153-170. Hugo Miinsterburg's "On the 
Witness Stand" gives a popular but exaggerated account. Clapar- 
ede also has a good popular account in The Strand, Sept. 1907. 
There is little in English. 



CHAPTER IX 

Imagination 

1. Collect instances in which a child's dream has 
created a lasting fear. Be sure that the fear did not exist 
Observa- previous to the dream. Collect instances 
tions where the dream created pleasure. Are 
such cases likely to be as common as the other? Why? 

2. Observe in some one child whether or not this 
order is followed in the growth of imagination: 

(i) Recalling and telling some experience of his own. 

(2) Listening to stories told him. 

(3) Inventing new stories himself. 

3. Collect instances of the personification of inani- 
mate objects. Did the children believe the object to 
be alive or not? 

4. If you know of any case of an imaginary playmate, 
describe it fully, noting especially the age of the child 
when it began; how long it lasted; sex of child and of 
plajTuate ; whether father or mother had such a playmate. 

5. Collect statistics from school children on the fol- 
lowing points. Get the age, sex, and grade of each 
child on his paper. In getting such data, to secure 
free utterance it is a good plan to tell the children not 
to put their names on their papers. 

(i) If you could be to-day just what you want to 
be, what would you choose? Why? 

(2) What do you want to be when you are grown 
up? Why? 
Various sensations leave their traces on the baby's 



Imagination 201 

brain, and as persons and objects move about him, 
he learns by degrees to connect their various aspects 
with each other, that is, he learns to perceive Memory and 
objects instead of merely receiving sensations, imagination 
Next, after he perceives objects as wholes, or while he is 
learning so to perceive them, comes recognition of them, 
and finally distinct memory images of them and desires 
for them when they are absent. Thus the baby arrives 
at a consciousness, though still vague and imperfect, of 
his past as well as of his present. He is no longer confined 
to a now, but looks backward to a then. 

As his memory images become more stable, they 
also become freed from definite time and place associ- 
ations. His experiences with chairs, tables, father and 
mother, and so on, have been so numerous that his image 
of a chair or table is not of his use of it at some one 
time and place, but of it in an indefinite time and place 
setting. He may have the definite setting, but he need 
not. In this way, the memory images become more flexi- 
ble and subject to his will, and presently we find him mak- 
ing alterations, picturing himself as doing something this 
morning that he has not done for a month ; making Httle 
plans of what he will do after dinner, and in such ways 
showing his power to manage his images. Then suddenly 
he becomes conscious of his power, and forthwith launches 
boldly out into a riotous sea of imaginings. Sometimes, in- 
deed, he becomes swamped, or he mistakes his buoyant 
fancies for the dry land of facts, but by degrees he 
learns to control them, and to see their limitations. 

At first, however, his new combinations are very 
inconspicuous, and more or less accidental. Perez 
thinks that they are first formed spontaneously, especially 
in sleep. Some slight disturbance of the circulation, 
or change in the brain, may lead to the establishment 



202 The Child 

of new connections — connections which cause new, 
grotesque, or pleasing mental combinations. I think 
Soontaneous ^"^'^ ^^^^ safely say that the growth of the 
new com- association fibers in the first months of 
bmations ^^^^ would lead to such new combinations, 
without any efifort of will on the child's part. These 
spontaneous combinations will be found, though to 
a less degree, as the child grows older, and doubtless 
give suggestions for the voluntary combinations that 
the child begins to form between the second and third 
years. There can be little question that such combina- 
tions do occur in dreams, and that they seriously afifect 
the waking life of many children. Mr. James gives a 
dream of his little girl as illustrative. She woke with 
a scream, saying that a dog had bitten her, and for 
months afterward she had spasms of terror at the sight 
of a dog, although up to that time she had liked them. 
I myself have a little friend who awoke, crying that an 
elephant was in the room and was going to eat her. 
Her mother said that for weeks she would not go into 
the room alone, even in the daytime, and even after six 
months she would not sleep there. If such occurrences 
are at all common, we can see how easily a child can 
live in a world wholly different from that known to us, 
and how, if his images in sleeping life are vivid enough, 
he may confuse them with reality. There seems to 
be little that one can do with such an unfortunate dream 
except as far as possible to make the child realize that it 
was only a dream and nothing to be afraid of. 

The systematic forming of new combinations by the 
Systematic child occurs first in listening to stories, but 
new^clmi- ^^^^^ ^^^^ "*-*^ come until after he has learned 
binations to tell little stories of his own life — what 
he has seen on his walk, what he did at grandma's, and 



Imagination 203 

so on. He forms vivid images of these stories, as is 
shown by his insisting upon the same words and facts 
in the story every time they are told. 

Only after this does he begin to invent stories of his 
own, but once started, he carries his story-telling to 
great lengths. The stories, like all his other fancies, 
are improbable and inconsistent to us, but not so to 
him, with his narrow experience. There is nothing 
incredible to him about the hole in a stone being the 
abode of fairies or about living in the water with the 
fish, and so' he both accepts and invents fairy tales and 
myths with equanimity. As his experience widens and 
he learns more of the world about him, his wild imagin- 
ings give way to others that are more in agreement 
with fact, and so less conspicuous. 

It may be partly true, also, that a child's fancies are 
so unbridled because his perceptions are indistinct, and 
thus he can read into them whatever he pleases without 
seeing any discrepancy with what is before him. In 
this connection it is worth noticing that the same child 
who can be so wildly imaginative finds great difficulty 
in framing a clear image from a description. He has 
not the power of concentration necessary for this. 

There seems to be at times a real illusion in these fan- 
cies. The child will lose himself in them for the moment. 
The fancy is so real and divides from the object itself 
so gradually that often he cannot say where one ends 
and the other begins. He always starts with some actual 
object and proceeds to adorn it with his fancy, usually 
giving it quaHties suggested by its likeness to other things. 

As persons interest children most, they tend to per- 
sonify all objects. The number of pretty Personifica- 
and pathetic illustrations of this is infinite. t^°° 
The stupid letters of the alphabet are made into persons. 



204 The Child 

and the child talks to " dear old W," L is sitting down, and 
F and '^ are facing each other and talking. 

The most prolonged case of such personification is 
given by Miss M. C. Whiting. Each number up to 12 
had a distinct personality for her, and the various com- 
binations of them in arithmetic made the subject most 
fascinating. She began this at the age of eight, and 
continued it for four years, taking it for granted that 
other people thought in the same way. The various 
combinations are made by the numbers acting in various 
ways, thus; 8 is so angry that she puts thoughtless 5 
into 13. Here he sta}^s until kind 9 rescues him and 
helps him into 14. 2 helps 6 and forces him into 12, a 
kind of prison. 8 finds 6 here, and puts him into 14, 
which is pleasant but beneath his dignity. 7 is already 
there by the aid of 2, and 8 hurls him into 15, a dungeon. 
5 had already got himself here by the unintended moves of 
3, but he persuades 4 to pity him and put him into 20, 
a most desirable station; and so on to 12x12. 

Jean Ingelow tells us that when she was a little girl 
she was sure that stones were alive, and she felt very 
sorry for them because they always had to stay in one 
place. When she went walking she would take a little 
basket, fill it with stones, and leave them at the farthest 
point of the walk, sure that they were grateful to her 
for the new view. Another little girl thought that the 
leaves were alive, and autumn was a mournful time to 
her because the leaves all had to die. Moving things 
are likely to be personified, especially if they are noisy. 
Machinery, engines, and steamers are terrific personalities 
to the little child. But he also personifies his moving toys, 
his ball and his hoop. Even a sliding cushion was given 
life by one small boy. It seems odd to us that children 
should think of such things as growing, but a goodly 



I ma g i n atton 205 

number of them do. Naturally enough, children attribute 
solidity to all objects at first, and so we find them trying 
to pick up the sunbeams. One little girl wants to wash 
the smoke and get it nice and white; and another wants 
to see the wind. When the wind was blowing strongly 
toward a neighboring town, one little child said he would 
like to go too because there must be so much wind there. 

Along with this personifying of all objects is the ten- 
dency to look upon them all as made for the use of people 
or even of the child. One little girl thought that the 
flowers opened to please her, and that the sun came out to 
light her. It is very difficult in all such cases to know 
how far a child is accepting literally the figurative state- 
ments of other people, and how far he is imagining. 

It is equally hard to draw the line between imagina- 
tion and reason. Thus, if a child sees a certain object, 
his fancy at once forms pictures of how the object came 
to be what it is. For example, one little child met a 
lame tramp on his walk and at once began to tell his 
mother that the tramp had been "riding on a big high 
horse, and the horse had jumped and thrown him off 
and hurt his leg." Another little fellow imagination 
saw the bumblebee industriously buzzing ^^^ reason 
in the window, and told his mother that it was asking 
for a lump of sugar. Then he addressed the bumblebee 
and told him that the sugar would give him cramps. 
The transition from fancy to reason is clear in the case of 
the tramp. The picture of the horse is the child's explana- 
tion of how it might come about that the tramp was lame. 
The induction does not seem to be different in nature 
from the working hypothesis of the scientist. 

It is also often difficult to distinguish between the 
playfulness of the imagination and lying. A child 
will sometimes come home and reel off long stories 



2o6 T h e C h i I d 

about what he has been doing and seeing, which have 
Httle or no truth in them. This tendency will last for 
Imagination months at a time. The thing one should look 
and lying for in such a case is the motive. Does the 
child intend to deceive you, or is he just playing with 
images, and asking you to play too? One way to find 
out is to respond to his story with some pretended doings 
of your own, confessing at the end that it was only play, 
and asking him if his story was not also. If in some way 
like this he is reminded that his ideas are not like the facts, 
he will usually outgrow the tendency. Only the intention 
to deceive is dangerous, and this we shall speak of shortly. 

Loneliness, distance, and mystery are great stimu- 
lants to a child's fancy. Probably most children have 
Imaginary fictitious characters with whom they play at 
playmates times, but the imaginary playmate reaches 
its greatest development in the child who plays alone. 
It is not uncommon to find that such a child has created 
for himself an invisible conipanion who is with him 
most of the time, and who remains in existence for two 
or three years. This companion has a name and a 
definite appearance and is a source of much comfort, 
as well as, frequently, the alleged reason for much mis- 
conduct. "Bokman made me do that, mamma," is the 
reason sometimes given by one little girl that I know. 
Or, "Bokman is wearing her blue dress; can't I wear 
mine?" It is frequently the case that the tendency to 
create such companions is hereditary. Usually when a 
child begins school, or gets absorbed in outside things, 
the companion fades away, but I know of one case in 
which it has persisted up to middle life. 

The distant world, the world beyond the hills, or ab 
the end of the rainbow, or above the clouds, is the source of 
many childish wonderings and imaginings. I remember 



I ma ginatt n 207 

that in that charming story, The Golden Age, there is 
an account of one picture in a book that was a source 
of constant questionings by the children. Distance and 
There was a hill beyond which church spires niystery 
could be seen, and ships were sailing around a bend of 
the river into the city. One day in a friend's house they 
found a book with pictures of the town. What joy was 
theirs really to see what they had wondered over so long ! 

The degree to which these fancies may be carried, 
and the amount of reality necessary to bolster up the 
imagination, varies greatly. Sometimes a . 

child may be urged to greater flights by 
a little make-believe on our parts. For instance, in 
playing store with a little girl of five I said I wanted 
some blue ribbon. She answered that they were out 
of it, but I pointed under a box cover and said, "Why, 
no; there is some." The box cover was green. "No," 
she said, "that ribbon is green." I persisted that there 
was blue ribbon under the cover, and took the cover 
away, pointing to the brown couch beneath, and saying, 
"See, there is blue ribbon." "No," she said, "that is 
brown ribbon. Don't you see it is brown?" But 
presently, as I still persisted, she accepted my view, 
pretended there was blue ribbon, and taking it up — a 
purely imaginary ribbon — brought it to me. The relation 
of invention to imagination here is most interesting. 

So far we have been discussing what may be called 

fancy. Chance association and personal feeling control 

the mind, and the child is more or less con- 

- , ,. r 1 ■ 1 Invention 

scious of the unreality of his mental rovings. 

We find a different state of affairs, however, when we 

turn to invention. The account of this will follow 

Baldwin. Let us go back, for the beginning of the 

child's inventions, to his imitations, and study the method 



2o8 The Child 

of persistent imitation. In repeating a movement 
again and again, a child is constantly omitting some 
movements, putting in others, and so learning new 
ones. Now, just in proportion as a child gets skill in 
reproducing the copy that he set out to imitate, his 
attention can play about the movements he is making 
and introduce untried combinations, which result in 
something new or advantageous to himself. These 
changes may be accidental at first, but the sense of mas- 
tery that they give is a strong incentive to trying others, 
and so there is constant experimenting, modifying of 
old situations and stories, and intense enjoyment of the 
results. Baldwin gives as illustrative of the process an 
invention of Helen's. She began by copying with her 
blocks a church from her picture book. When she 
had it partly done, she saw that it could be altered a 
little and finished as an animal, which she forthwith 
did. This is typical of the inventive process, and is an 
important step in the child's development, because it 
teaches him that he has control over objects — ^that he 
is not limited to the mere imitation, but can make a 
new world of his own. From the teacher's standpoint, 
the close connection between this creation and imi- 
tation is important to note. The most imitative child 
may be the most imaginative. 

When a child has made such an invention, the next thing 
is to show it to an admiring world, to get social approval, 
and this also is typical of all minds. If others will not 
accept his wonderful creation, if they criticize or laugh at 
it, he is forced to modify his enthusiasm of it — to change it 
so that it will meet with general approval and use. The 
possibility of using his invention in his relations with others 
is thus a child's final test of his creation, and a spur to 
new efforts. The desire to have control of the situation, or 



Imagination 209 

to escape unpleasant surroundings, doubtless underlies this. 
Many so-called lies illustrate the same point. Bald- 
win gives another example here. Helen was bringing 
some packages to him from the hall and invention 
became tired before they were all brought *"^ 'yi"S 
in. She brought them more and more slowly and finally 
stopped before him and said, "No more." Now, as she 
became tired, Baldwin says, the thought of her delight 
when the task was finished and of the praise she would 
receive from her father, became more and more prominent. 
With this was the consciousness that she would tell her 
father when she was through. From this consciousness 
it was a short step to the thought that by telling him 
at once that there were no more she would be praised and 
relieved. That is, simply to escape from an unpleasant 
situation she invented a situation which would give her 
the desired results, without any sense of wrongdoing. 
Many of the first lies of children, where they are not 
purely imaginative, are of this sort, and should be care- 
ftdly dealt with, because they grow into deliberate lying. 
They usually occur like this one, because they are of 
use to a child in some way. The best way to deal with 
them must vary according to the disposition of the 
child. He must in one way or another learn that social 
disapproval always follows such an act, because if people 
generally lied, social life could not exist. On the other 
hand, when he has done any kind of wrong, the treatment 
of him should be such as to induce repentance instead of 
fear, so that the next time he does wrong he will not be 
tempted to lie to escape punishment. Where there are 
confidence and wise government, the lie problem will 
not be so pressing as where there are fear and too great 
restriction. To prevent lies, then, there should be 
cultivated most carefully in a child the courage to take 



2IO T li e Child 

the consequences of his acts, and the confidence that he 
will always be justly treated and understood. 

Brittain made a study of the imagination of nineteen 
boys and twenty-one girls between thirteen and twenty 
Sex dif- years of age. His study ran over six months, 

ferences in and involved a wide range of questions and 
adolescents observations, such as the favorite school 
subject, the character of their daydreams and of the 
poetry and stories written by them, the effect of natural 
phenomena, music, and art upon them, their favorite 
books and poems, the character of the story titles sug- 
gested by them, and the stories written by them under 
different conditions. 

The points which stand out in his results are these: 
The boys specialize in their interests more than the girls 
do, and offer both the best and the worst cases of con- 
structive imagination. Their daydreams are rarely of the 
past, and hunting, fishing, and work are the predominant 
subjects in them. About half of both boys and girls still 
like fairy stories. In the other tests it appears that 
the boys' interests are predominantly active, embracing 
such subjects as hunting, fishing, seafaring, and war, 
and they have a strong sense of practical humor. The 
girls' interests center largely about the emotions of pity 
and fear, their moral and social interests are stronger, 
their motor interests of a less strenuous sort, their sense 
of humor as great but more refined and fanciful, their 
le.aning toward the mysterious stronger. Lobsien makes 
similar statements in his Kind und Kunst. 

Finally we come to the most practical use of imagination 
that any of us can make — the planning of a career. 
Nearly eight thousand children have been asked what 
they would like to do when they are grown up, or what 
person they would like most to resemble, and what part; 



I m a g i n alio n 



they would like to take in the Hfe about them. The 
close connection between imagination and imitation is 
seen here. The occupations are necessarily ideals 
chosen from the lives that the children hopes, and 
know, and out of the whole list suggested ambitions 
the boys mention two thirds to three quarters of the 
entire number. As one girl puts it, "There are not 
many things for a girl to be." 

The following table shows the occupations mentioned 
most frequently. Where two figures are given, they 
show the variation between different reports; where 
but one, agreement or but one report.^ 



Occupation 



Teacher 

Dressmaker 

Milliner 

Music teacher 

Musician 

Artist 

Housekeeper 

Nurse 

Servant 

Wife and mother 

Missionary ! . . . 

Factory hand 

Bookkeeper ^ 

Typewriter 

Clerk or stenographer 

Trades (Taylor's estimate, i ,490 boys) — 

Engineer 

Carpenter 

Blacksmith • 

Machinist 

Merchant, business man or storekeeper . 

Farmer 

Minister 

Doctor 

Lawyer 

Sailor 

Railroad man 




1 The table is based on the figures of Taylor and Monroe, with 
some data from Chandler and Darrah. 



212 



The Child 



This table represents the average for all ages, but 
we find certain changes in choice between seven and 
fifteen years of age that should be noticed. Thus, 
the choice of teaching varies from 41 per cent at seven 
years and 58 per cent at nine years to 20 per cent at 
eleven years. Among girls, milliner and dressmaker 
choices outnumber those of teaching at thirteen and 
fourteen years and only then, pointing to an increased 
interest in dress. 

With boys, trades seem to be the most popular between 
seven and nine and clerkships between ten and twelve. 
The choice of a business career appears at eight, that 
of a sailor's life at nine, and both increase slowly, but 
steadily. 

These variations in the choice of profession at different 
ages are shown in more detail in Mr. Jegi's table of two 
thousand eight hundred poor German children. The 
table is given in per cents. 



Bovs 



Years . 



Carpenter. . 
Merchant . . 
Bookkeeper 

Farmer 

Engineer . . . 
Machinist. . 

Clerk 

Fireman . . . . 

Sailor 

Officer 

Soldier 



8 


9 


10 


II 


12 


13 


14 


21% 


26% 


22% 


22% 


17% 


10% 


6% 


19 


II 


16 


13 


7 


12 


15 





10 


II 


15 


5 


15 


23 


13 


12 


9 


15 


9 


ID 


18 


3 


II 


8 


9 


20 


10 


10 


2 


4 


2 


4 


7 


18 


23 


3 


6 


I 


10 


13 


12 


12 


9 


8 


18 


8 


4 


2 


4 


2 


7 


9 


4 


12 


6 


12 


3 


9 


10 


6 


5 


10 


8 


10 


ID 


8 


9 


8 


2 


•2 



ToT.\L NO. 

choosing 

f.\ther's 

profession 



67 

3 

14 

14 

4 

17 

6 

I 

2 

o 



/ m agination 



213 



Girls 



Years 

Clerk 

Teacher 

Dressmaker . . . . 
Housekeeper. . . 
Music teacher. 

MilHner 

Bookkeeper. . . . 
Typewriter. . . . 



8 

17% 


9 


10 


II 


12 


13 


22% 


24% 


19% 


25% 


35% 


88 


91 


64 


63 


77 


33 


27 


91 


36 


57 


48 


63 


56 


34 


32 


32 


28 


22 





3 


12 


12 


12 


27 


8 


7 


4 


10 


10 


8 


I 





4 


12 


3 


7 





2 


2 


8 


3 


7 



H_ 

32 
21 

14 
II 

9 
22 
II 



The reasons for choice may be given as follows: 



Reasons 



Like it. 



Fitness for work 

Money 

Easy 

Philanthropy 

Parents' or relations' occupation pleasant 

Demand for this work 

Pleasant 

Opportunity for travel 



Girls 




As Mr. Monroe gives the table it is: 



Reasons 



Like it . 



Money 

Easy 

Philanthropy 

Parents' or relations' occupation pleasant 
Miscellaneous or no answer 




Girls 



44% 



24 

14 

7 

2 

9 



Both tables agree in emphasizing the importance of 
the child's liking and his desire to earn money in deciding 
his choice. Indeed, the desire to earn money is so prom- 
inent that we cannot but believe that our mercenary 
age is influencing our children far too much. It seems 
dreadful that as many children, not adults, but children, 



214 T h e C hi Id 

should feci the need of earning money, as feel free to 
follow their own liking. Indeed, the most marked feature 
The money of all those observations is that so few of the 
motive children go beyond the range of the common- 

place in their choice of a life work. The shades of the 
prison-house have already closed about them. They 
do not feel free and conscious that the world is theirs 
for the choosing. Most of them look forward to a life of 
hard work — household drudgery or ditch digging. Are 
they not loaded with the burdens of adult life too soon? 

Money is the strongest motive for choice at every 
age from seven up to fourteen, when the adolescent 
asserts himself and chooses a profession because -he 
likes it, or because his father or uncle is so and so. 

Mr. Jegi's figures of the German children, however, 
show that most of them, while choosing a humble profes- 
sion, choose it because they like it, and that the money 
motive decreases instead of increasing with age. 

The desire to earn a living appears at the age of seven, 
and this motive, growing in dcfiniteness and determining 
Other the occupation, such as teaching, because it 

motives gives good pay, increases until it makes 

25 per cent of the choices at the age of twelve. 

There is also a growing appreciation of the disagree- 
able side of all work, and of the demand for each sort. 

Altruistic motives are not prominent until the eleventh 
year, when 10 per cent of the choices are determined 
by the desire to help support the family. At twelve, 
plans to help the poor, to convert the heathen, and like 
reasons, appear, and rise to their highest point at fourteen. 

In observations upon four hundred and fifty chil- 
dren from kindergarten through eighth grade. Misses 
Sheldon and Hamburgher found a marked difference 
between the character of the wish for the present, 



Imagination 215 

and for the future when they were grown up. Contrary 
to what we should expect, 16 per cent chose the improb- 
able for the present but only one-eightieth present and 
of one per cent chose it for the future. The future 
contrast is very funny in some cases. "®^^'^®^ 
Thus, one child, if she could have her wish, would be a 
rose in a garden to-day; but when grown, a teacher; 
another would be a bird now, but a dressmaker when 
grown; one boy of ten would be (of all things!) an angel 
now, but a doctor by-and-by. 

It was also quite noticeable that when asked what 
they would choose for themselves and for another, they 
chose the more probable thing for self and let their 
fancy free on the other — bedroom slippers for self, and 
a diamond ring for the mother. Or is it possible that to 
the child the two things are on the same plane of values ? 

Why should a child choose the improbable for to-day, 
and become so matter-of-fact over the future? Is it 
because the futiHty of to-day's choice appeals to him so 
that he lets his fancy roam.? It would be worth while 
to get returns from more children to see whether or not 
this difference is constant, and whether it is more 
marked with the older children than with the younger. 

The character of the hopes which control childish acts 
is seen from another standpoint in an inquiry into chil- 
dren's motives for planting seeds. Among Esthetic and 
the boys, materialistic purposes increased material 
from 56 per cent at eight to 75 per cent at ' ®^^ 
fourteen, and in the girls from 47 per cent at eight to 57 
per cent at fourteen. Between eight and fourteen, the 
aesthetic idea decreased among the boys from 50 per cent 
to 28 per cent and among the girls from 54 per cent to 
44 per cent. Altruistic motives fluctuate in the boys, 
from 10 per cent at eight and 25 per cent at twelve, to 



2l6 



The Child 



15 per cent at fourteen. In the girls, on the other hand, 
they increase steadily, from 18 per cent at eight to 60 
per cent at fourteen. 

Considering the ideal person whom the child would 
be, we find that with little children his traits are bor- 
The child's rowed chiefly from father, mother, or friend, 
'^6^ and very seldom from literature or history; 

while with sixteen-year-old boys and girls historical 
characters lead, followed by those from literature, and 
a very few from among friends or parents. Washington 
and Lincoln are the heroes of both boys and girls, and 
the girls' ideals as a rule emphasize qualities essentially 
masculine. 

The table below shows the most common ideal attri- 
butes and their influence at different ages, in per cents. 



YEARS 


12 YEARS 


IS YEARS 


25% 


23' 


'0 


22% 


27 


4 







4 


9 




10 


3 


3 




4 


12 


I 







12 


I 







3 


10 




12 


5 


19 




13 


2 


I 










6 




10 


4 


13 




18 


10 







2 



Goodness 

Goodness to self or class 

Truth and honesty 

Appearance 

Striking quality 

Feminine accomplishments 

Intellectual power 

Bravery and adventurous qualities. 

Discoverer or inventor 

Patriotism 

Leadership 

Wealth 



The studies by Chambers, Goddard, Hill, and Brandell, 
who asked Barnes's question of American, German, and 
Swedish children, bring out in a striking way both the 
similarities and differences in the child mind. The 
question asked was: What person of those whom you 
have seen, thought of, heard of, or read about would you 
most like to resemble, and why? 

Among the German and Swedish nine-year-old children 
parents were most commonly chosen, by 40 per cent of 



Imagination 217 

the Swedes and 26 per cent of the Germans, but by 
only 17 per cent of the Americans. This percentage 
steadily decreases with age. In all the studies few chil- 
dren choose the teacher, and a larger percentage of girls 
than of boys choose acquaintances. From parents and 
acquaintances there is a transition to historical and public 
characters in both boys and girls, the Swedish and Ameri- 
can children leading in the percentage chosen and in the 
variety of characters, while the German children from the 
Volksschvtle have the narrowest range and the smallest 
number of choices. Contemporary public characters 
increase in number with the age of the children. In 
America the most frequent choice of an historical or 
public character is George Washington; in Sweden, 
Gustavus Adolphus; in Germany, Emperor WilHam. 
The girls choose more characters from fiction and religion 
than the boys do, and more from the opposite sex, though 
this is less true among the German children thani the 
others. The American children average about 5 per 
cent and the Swedish 6 per cent in choice ofi Biblical 
characters, whereas the German, English, andl Scotch 
children studied range from 7 to 18 per cent. This., it 
is supposed, is due to the religious instruction in the 
schools, and Hill remarks that perhaps if this same ques- 
tion were asked of American children in Sunday school 
a much larger percentage of Biblical characters would 
be chosen. 

The reasons for choosing the given character differ 
considerably with nationality and sex. The most com- 
mon reason is that the ideal person is good and kind, 
but this diminishes with age. Material possessions 
apparently attract less than i per cent of the Swedish 
children; 2 to 7 per cent of the American; 14 per cent of 
the German boys and 5 per cent of the German girls; 



2i8 The Child 

lo per cent of the London boys and 14 per cetit of the 
London girls. Again, only 2 and i per cent of Swedish 
boys and girls long for social position, honor, and fame, 
as against an average of about 16 per cent of American 
and 20 per cent of London children. But 27 per cent of 
Swedish boys and 33 per cent of the girls mention intellec- 
tual and artistic qualities, 2 per cent of the German, 6 per 
cent of the London and less than 5 per cent of the Amer- 
ican. In all studies, these increase with age, and phj^sical 
characteristics are little referred to at any age. The per- 
centage of girls is larger than that of boys. They also 
choose moral qualities more frequently, while the boys 
choose frequently social, military, and political qualities. 

Adler emphasizes strongly the fact that the attributes 
desired by any child or adult are those seen in the person 
who is known to be most powerful, and that in the 
child's life this person is usually the father. Again, if 
the child feels himself weak in any special way, he will 
make a special effort to assume or acquire the lacking 
trait or possession, and thus he becomes tense, adapt- 
able, sensitive, and may become nervous or neurotic, 
capable, or even talented in directions in which he is by 
nature weak. Whether he fails or succeeds depends 
upon many incalculable factors, but it seems necessary 
to assume, as Adler apparently does not, that the defect 
cannot be too serious. A person with sensitive eyes or 
ears, for instance, might become a painter or a musician, 
but a deaf child or blind child cannot. Adler does not 
seem to allow sufficiently for the normal person with 
talent or genius, but almost leaves us to infer that unless 
there is a feeling of inferiority there will be no striving 
and no attainment. While this includes many cases it 
does not cover all. 

The more general question of what children would 



Imagination 



219 



choose to have for self and others, brought this result : ' 



Choice 



Concrete things . 

Knowledge 

Health 



Companionship . 

Happiness 

Virtue 



Self 


Others 


56i% 


70|% 


85 


A 


5h 


31 


8| 


31 


7l 


4? 


3i 


2f, 



With age there was a slight increase in the choice of 
abstract qualities. 

Now is it not a pity that children and young people 
should be on the whole so prosy and confined to real 
life as these children are? We hear a great ^se and 
deal about the abuse of imagination, the abuse of 
danger of daydreams and castles in Spain, i^iagination 
and the moral obliquity involved in presenting fairy 
tales and myths to children. There is, of course, a real 
danger here, lest in playing with ideas a child forget 
realities, but in view of this collection of ideals bor- 
rowed so directly from the everyday life of thousands 
of children, the danger of our becoming a nation of 
dreamers does not seem to be nearly as imminent as 
that of our becoming a nation of money lovers and 
materialists, satisfied with present conditions. Will 
children with such ideals ever become creators? Will 
they turn out to be artists, poets, inventors, or even 
signal successes in the conduct of any large enterprise? 

Instead of abusing the imagination by exercising it 

too much on useless things, we are abusing it by not 

employing it to raise and elevate our lives from year 

to year. There is no stronger power for good than a 

1 Misses Mary L. Sheldon and Rae Hamburgher's unpublished 
data from four hundred and fifty children in the Chicago schools. 
The children were all from the "poorer districts." 



220 The Child 

vivid and noble ideal. It is the air and water for the 
beautiful character that grows from the soil of prosaic 
surroundings. Even putting the question on practical 
grounds, no business can be successfully conducted 
unless the man at the head can imagine clearly the 
consequences of this or that move. He must be able 
to picture how his customers will like this new fabric; 
how he can best introduce it, and so on. Imagination, in 
short, is the pattern of the web of life. It is the shaping 
force without which the universe would be a chaos. We 
should say, then, that abuse of the imagination is possible 
only when images do not finally turn back into our life 
and change it in some way. With this one limitation, 
we cannot encourage the free use of images too much. 

We have already seen that imagination is based upon 
memory images. .In proportion as those are clear and 
Training of distinct, will the material of imagination be 
imagination g^gy to manipulate. There is, however, no 
reason for using this material and so setting imagination 
to work, unless a child's curiosity is roused by something 
that he does not understand. When he asks himself a 
question and sets about finding the answer, imagination 
begins to work, and it may end in an invention like the 
telephone, a theory like the nebular hypothesis, or a 
picture like the Sistine Madonna. The necessary thing 
in all cases is the arousing of a keen curiosity or interest 
which is permanent enough to keep the questioner at it 
until he has an answer. To cultivate the imagination, 
therefore, cultivate far-reaching enthusiasms and interests. 

REFERENCES 
Imagination 
Adler und Fortmuller. Heilen und Bilden, 19 13, 186 pp. 
Alexander, H. B. Observations on Visual Imagery. Psy. Rev., 
1904, Vol. XI, 319-338. 



Imagination 221 

Baird, J. W. Memory and Imagination (Summary). Psy. Bull., 

191 1, 243-253. 
Baldwin, J. M. (ed.). Bibliography on Imagination. See Diet, of 

Phil, and Psychol., Vol. Ill, 1067-1069. Macmillan, N. Y., 

1906. 
Barnes, Earl. Children's Ideals. N. W. Mo., Oct. 1898, 91-93; 

Fed. Sem., 1900, Vol. VII, 3-12. 
Bentley, I. M. The Memory Image and its Qualitative Fidelity. 

Am. Jour. Psy., October 1899, Vol. XI, 1-48. 
Binet, Alfred. Mental Imagery. Fort. Rev., 1892, Vol. LVIII, 95. 
Blow, S. E. Symbolic Education. Appleton, N. Y., 1895, 251 pp. 
Bolton, T. L. A Genetic Study of Make-Believe. Jour, of Phil., 

Psy. and Set. Meth., 1908, Vol. V, 281-287. 
Book, W. F., Psychology of Skill. U. of Montana Studies, 1908, 

188 pp. 
Brittain, H. L. A Study in Imagination. Fed. Sem., 1907, Vol. 

XIV, 137-207. 
Burnham, W. H. Individual DifTerences in the Imagination of 

Children, Fed. Sem., 1893, Vol. II, 204-225. 
Carter, M. H. The Kindergarten Child after the Kindergarten. 

Atlantic Mo., 1899, Vol. LXXXIII, 358-366. 
Chalmers, L. H. Studies in Imagination. Fed. Sem., 1900, Vol. 

VII, 111-123. 
Chandler, K. A. Children's Purposes. C. S. M., 1897-98, 136-139. 
Clapp, E. R. Dependence upon the Imagination of the Subject- 
Object Distinction. Jour, of Phil., Psy. and Set. Meth., 1909, 

Vol. VI, 455-460. 
Colvin, S. S. Child's World of Imagination. Ele. Sch. Teach., 

Vol. VI, 1906, 327-342. 
Colvin, S. S., and Meyer, I. F. Imaginative Elements in the- 

Written Work of School Children. Fed. Sem., 1906, Vol. 

XIII, 84-93- 
Development of Imagination. Psy. Rev., Monog. Sup., 1909, 

No. 44, 85-126. 
Compayre, G. Intellectual and Moral Development of the Child. 

Chapter on Imagination. Appleton, N. Y. $1.50. 
Darrah, E. M. Study of Children's Ideals. Fop. Sc. Mo., 1898, 

88-98, Vol. LIII. 
Davidson, John. Educational Meaning and Function of Myth. 

Paid., 1907, 98-115. 

15 



222 The Child 

Davies, E. Training of the Imagination. Contemp. Rev., 1869, 

Vol. XII, 25-37; Liltell's Liv. Age, 1869, Vol. CIII, 120-138. 
Dearborn, J. V. A Study of Imaginations. Am. Jour. Psy., 

1898, Vol. IX, 183-190. 
Dugas, L. L' Imagination. Doin, Paris, 1903, 350 pp. 
French, F. C. Mental Imagery of Students. Psy. Rev., 1902, 

Vol. IX, 40-56. 
Galton, Francis. Inquiry into Human Faculties. Section on 

Images. Macmillan. $4.00. 
Gilbertson, G. N. Swedish Study in Children's Ideals. Ped. 

Sent., Mar. 1913, 100-106. 
Goddard, H. H. Ideals of a Group of German Children. Ped. 

Sem., 1906, 208-220. 
Hall, G. S. Children's Lies. Ped. Sem., June 1891, Vol. I, 211-218. 
Herts, A. M. TJie Children's Educational Theatre. Harper, N. Y., 

1911, 150 pp. 
Hill, Davids. Children's Ideals. Ped. 5ew., 191 1, 219-231. 
Hursh, S. B. Children's Hopes. C. S. M., 1895-6, 256-259. 
Jastrow, J. Eye Mindedness and Ear Mindedness. Pop. Sc. 

Mo., May to Oct. 1888, Vol. XXXIII, 597-608. 
Jegi, J. I. Children's Ambitions. Trans. III. Soc. C. S., 1899, 

121-144. 
Lay, W. A. Mental Imagery. Psy. Rev., Monog. Sup., No. 7, 

May 1898, Vol. II, 59 pp. 
Lewis, H. K. The Child: His Spiritual Nature. 38-42. (Inventions.) 

Macmillan, N. Y. $2.00. 
Libby, W. Imagination of Adolescence. Am. Jour. Psy., 1908, 

Vol. XIX, 249-252. 
McMillan, Margaret. Education through Imagination. London, 

1905, 196 pp. 
Meakin, Frederick. Mutual Inhibition of Memory Images. Psy. 

Rev., Monog. Sup., No. 17, Jan. 1903, Vol. IV, 235-275. 
Meumann, E. Vorlesnngen. Englemann, Leipzig, 191 1. 2d ed. 

Vol. I, 518-540. 
Monroe, W. S. Vocational Interests. Education, Vol. XVIII, 

259-264. 
Moore, C. S. Control of Memory Image. Psy. Rev., Monog. 

Sup., 1903, Vol. IV, 277-306. 
Partridge, Geo. E. Reverie. Ped. Sem., 1898, Vol. V, 444-474. 
Perky, C. W. Experimental Study of Imagination. Am. Jour. 

Psy., 1910, 21, 422-452. 



Imagination 223 

Price, Nancy. Behind the Night Light. Murray, Lond., 1912, 

50 pp. 
Queyrat, F. Les jetix des enfants. Alcan, Paris, 1905, 161 pp. 
L'iniagination et ses varietes chez I'enjant. Alcan, Paris, 

1893, 162 pp. 
Ribot, T. Essay on Creative Imagination. Open Court Pub. Co., 

1906, 370 pp. 
Richmond, Mary E. Early Training of Imagination. Child Life, 

1904, 193-198. 
Royce, J. The Psychology of Invention. Psy. Rev., 1898, Vol. V, 

113-144. 
Secor, N. B. Visual Reading. Am. lour. Psy., Vol. XI, 225-236. 
Slaughter, J. W. Behavior of Mental Images. Am. Jour. Psy., 

1902, 526-549- 
Smith, T. L. Psychology of Day Dreams. Am. Jour. Psy., 

Oct. 1904, Vol. XV, 465-488. 
Sully, James. Studies of Childhood. Chapter on Imagination. 

Appleton, N. Y. $2.50. 
Talbot, E. B. An Attempt to Train the Visual Memory. Am. 

Jour. Psy., April 1897, Vol. VIII, 414-417. 
Taylor, J. P. Preliminary Study of Children's Hopes. Annual 

Kept, of Supt. of Ed. of N. Y., 1895-6, 992-1012. 
Practical Aspects of Interest. Ped. Sem., Vol. V, 1897-8, 

497-511- 
Thurber, C. H. What Children Want to Do when they are Men 

and Women. Proc. N. E. A., 1896, 882-887. (Summary 

of Taylor.) 
Tyndall, J. Scientific Use of Imagination. Appleton, 188 1, 509 pp. 
Vostrovsky, Clara. Imaginary Companions. Barnes's Studies 

in Ed., 98-101. 
Whiting, M. C. Individuality of Numbers. Ped. Sem., 1892-3, 

107-110. 
Willard, Hattie M. Children's Ambitions. Barnes's Studies in 

Ed., Vol. I, 1896-7, 243-253. 
Wiltse, S. E. Mental Imagery of Boys. Am. Jour. Psy., 1894, 

144-148. 
Winch, W. H. Relations between Substance Memory, and Produc- 
tive Imagination in School Children. Brit. Jour. Psy., 191 1, 

315-341- 
See also indexes in the general studies, and studies of individual 
children. 



CHAPTER X 

Conception and Reasoning 

I. Notice: 

(i) When the baby first connects sensations; for 
example, the milk with the bottle. 

(2) When he first compares objects; for example, 

one face with another. 

(3) When he first connects a present with an absent 

object; for example, the dress with the ab- 
sent mother. 

(4) When he forms a sequence; for example, the 

sight of his cloak suggests going outdoors. 

(5) When he first adapts means to ends; for 

example, pulls the tablecloth to bring some- 
thing within reach. 

(6) When he first asks a question. How old is he? 

What is it? Does he follow it with others? 
How long is it before questioning becomes 



common 



2. Question children from three to eight years old as 
follows : 

(i) What is the length of an hour, day, week, 
month, and year? 

(2) See whether they know how much longer the 

day is than the hour, the week than the day, 
and so on. 

(3) How much do they think that they can do 

in an hour? 

(4) At what age did they learn to tell time? 

224 



Conception and Reasoning 225 

(5) At what age do they care to know the day of 
the month, the names of the months? 

3. Ask school children to tell you what the things 
are that are named in Dr. Hall's list in the chapter on 
Perception, or in a similar list. These descriptions will 
show the imperfections in the children's sense experiences 
and the consequent imperfections in their concepts. 

With the development of genetic psychology it is 
accepted as an unquestionable fact that the mental life 
is a gradual and unbroken growth from the cradle to the 
grave; as much as is the growth of the body. The infant 
mind must contain in the germ the possibilities of the 
highest reasoning. True, it needs the sunHght, air, and 
water of favorable surroundings to develop it, as any 
germ does, but it is waiting to be developed, except in the 
few unfortunates who are born with the possibility of 
only a slight development. 

Conception, judgment, and reasoning have their roots 
in the first stimulus and the reaction to it, and are only 
better methods of adaptation to surroundings than those 
based merely on perception and knowledge of individual 
things. We have already seen that perception is very 
complex, involving factors of recognition and reaction on 
the basis of recognition. We tend to react to present 
stimuli, even if they be somewhat different from the old, 
as we did to the old, and when such a reaction works 
well, we identify the new thing with the old. 

In discussing perception it was stated that by the 
third week the sight of the breast called out movements 
toward it for nursing, and that from the p|j.g^ ^q^_ 
third month on, recognition of objects sciousness 
increased very rapidly. It was noted that ** *^ *^^®^ 
this was to a large extent due to organic memory, and 
not to the presence of memory images. At this stage. 



226 The Child 

therefore, a baby cannot compare a present with a past 
experience, and only with difficulty can compare two 
present experiences. 

This first recognition goes into few details. Some 
strong impression appeals to the baby's senses, and any 
object that gives the same impression calls out the same 
reaction. Preyer's son showed a strong liking for white 
bottles of any sort, like his milk bottle. Babies at first 
usually treat all men as they do their father, unless 
there is some striking peculiarity. If the mother remains 
much with the child, she is kept in a class by herself, but 
otherwise it is not at all uncommon for the baby to act 
toward all women as he does toward his mother. 

In such cases, there is a recognition by means of 
organic memory of certain prominent characteristics, and 
there is a responsive movement of some sort. The first 
concept is thus, according to Baldwin, an habitual response 
to a certain stimulus. 

We may say confidently that the possibility of com- 
parison is small at birth, for the various brain centers 
The first have then few fibers connecting them. Dur- 

comparisons f^g the first nine months, however, the brain 
increases more m size and in connections between its 
parts than at any other period of life, so that we may 
expect to find comparison by the ninth month, and in all 
probability considerably earlier. 

When we speak of comparison, we simply mean noting 
the relationships between two objects or ideas. The two 
things must both be included in one mental act. Even 
if two objects are compared, then it is evident that there 
must be at least enough memory to remember the first 
object while examining the second. Miss Shinn records 
the first memory and the first comparison at the same 
time, in the beginning of the third month, when her niece 



Conception and Reasoning 227 

studied her and her mother alternately, for some thne, 
turning her head from one to the other and examining 
them both intently. 

Perez gives what is clearly a case of comparison, 
although he does not seem to be sure of it, in describing 
an eight-months-old boy's experiences with two cats. 
The boy was playing with one cat when another cat 
of the same size and color entered the room. Sud- 
denly the child caught sight of it and apparently could 
hardly beheve his eyes. He stared at it and then at 
the first cat, his body tense with attention and aston- 
ishment. He examined the two until he became satisfied 
that they really were two different things, though so 
much ahke. 

As soon as a child begins to speak, we have certain 
and numerous evidences of the similarities that he is 
constantlj^ seeing between objects. All white animals 
of a certain size are "Iambics"; all black ones, "doggies." 
The hairless doll is "Grandpa." Men without beards 
are boys even to the four- year-old, and the ten-cent 
piece is a baby dollar. 

We see comparison clearl}^ when Mrs. Hall's child, 
at eight months, recognizes the real dog from the image 
on the mantel; when Preyer's boy, at about one year, 
compares his father's face with its reflection in the mirror; 
and in the case cited by Ribot, of the child who compared 
the ticking of the watch with that of the clock. We 
see here, as in the first class-consciousness, that only 
certain very obvious or interesting qualities strike the 
child's mind, and so his classification by those qualities 
seems to us very funny or very pretty. We should add, 
however, that where there is a strong interest, the com- 
parisons of a four-year-old child will average favorably 
with those of an uninterested adult. 



2 28 The Child 

We have no data to show when a child first compares 
two ideas with each other. 

We may best describe the baby's condition when 
comparison has fairly begun by summarizing Baldwin's 
account of the origin of the concept. 

The child begins with an indefinite and vague whole, 
which is both particular and general, percept and con- 
Origin of the cept. Take, for instance, the pet kitten, the 
concept child's first experience with cats. The indi- 

vidual and the class are to him the same at this point. 
He knows no class but the individual. But he meets now 
a big cat of a new color. He may not identify it with the 
first cat at all, but the chances are that he will. Percept 
and concept now begin to divide — the two individuals 
are alike in some ways, so that both are called cats, and 
different in others, so that one is called Tiger and one 
Tom. Tiger scratches, Tom does not; but both are soft 
and warm and both purr. So his idea of a cat is a purring, 
warm, soft animal, that may or may not scratch. The 
next cat he sees may lick his fingers, and so, with every 
successive experience some qualities may be left out 
and others put in only as possibilities, until there is 
but a small nucleus of qualities belonging to all cats, 
and a large fringe of other characteristics that may 
belong to any particular Tabby or Tom. 

The amazing thing is that the baby learns so quickly 
to distinguish individuals from each other, and yet, at 
the same time, to put them together into one class, as 
things to eat, things to drink, roUing things, and so 
on. Experience is his only teacher here, but experi- 
ence, reinforced by pleasure and pain and by the natural 
impulses and instincts of the child, is very powerful. 

It is important to the baby's safety and comfort 
that he should learn thus speedily to distinguish and 



Conception and Reasoning 229 

associate. Take, for instance, the cats again. He 

likes the soft fur and warmth, but he gets scratched 

by Tiger. Now for a long time he may be afraid that 

all cats scratch, but if he learns that only Tiger scratches 

and Tom and Tabby do not, he gets the pleasure of 

playing with them and avoids the pain of Tiger's claws. 

That is, to state it generally again, a baby that learns 

most readily the qualities peculiar only to an individual 

and those common to a class, is the baby that is the most 

independent and the surest of safety. 

That the child's first concepts are incomplete is a 

foregone conclusion from what we have already said. 

His experiences with objects are necessa- ^ 
•1 1- . 1 , 11 r ^ r Iiicomplete- 

nly hmited; he cannot tell from the tew ness of 

people or houses or rivers that he has seen, child's 

,.,.,. ... , . , concepts 

which of their qualities are peculiar to them 

and which belong to all objects of their kind. When we 
add to this his imperfect observation and his small power 
of voluntary attention, we can see that correct concepts 
will be a late mental product. A child may have as 
wild an imagination as an adult, but an imagination 
that attends to universal and real qualities, as concep- 
tion does, is obtained only by long experience and training. 

The child's concepts are therefore too general in some 
cases and too particular in others. He does not put 
into the concept all the qualities that it ought to have, as 
in thinking that all white things are milk; or he puts 
in wrong ones, as in thinking that all rivers are dirty; 
or he combines both errors, as in thinking that blackness 
marks off dogs from sheep. 

We can, by a Httle adroit questioning of children, 
see all these errors in their concepts of common classes 
of objects, such as tables and chairs and people, while 
with the still more abstract concepts, such as number, 



230 T h c C h i I d 

distance, growth, time, and the self, the errors are all 
intensified. Their inferences and reasoning show the 
various errors described in logic, but also the correct 
forms, and if, with . Rignano, we consider reasoning as a 
mental experiment, a carrying out in imagination of 
what later we try to carry out in fact, we should expect 
this. Here we can no more set a definite point of time 
at which abstract thought emerges than we can for any 
other process; but, on the other hand, it is greatly facili- 
tated as soon as a child becomes conscious of his power 
to make new combinations, and has some control of 
speech, that is, by the third or fourth year. At this 
time there is an outbreak of questions, and there is likely 
to be one of so-called lies, which is really a period of 
experimenting in handling images. A child makes up 
all sorts of fictions, sometimes apparently just for the 
pleasure of it, and sometimes as an explanation. A little 
later, in the primary-grade period, he tends more to 
working out relations between objects he has to deal 
with, becomes more practical, and at adolescence finally 
broader conscious generalizations are made and logical 
reasoning may become almost a fetish for a time. 

According to Gale's observations, as well as according 
to what we should infer from other incidental observa- 
Early asso- tions, the associations of the first year are 
ciations chiefly those of contiguity. Anything may 

be associated with anything else in place and time, so that 
it will call up the other in memory. The mother has the 
child at her mercy for forming good or bad, natural and 
permanent or artificial and temporary associations be- 
.tween his various experiences. There is no thought in the 
narrower sense of that term, but there is the formation 
of habitual sequences which may either persist through 
life or must later be broken with difficulty. If, for 



Conception and R c a s o n i n g 231 

instance, an association is formed between the baby's 
screaming and being taken out of bed and carried or 
held by the mother, in a very short time the baby learns 
the combination and reacts accordingly, though we 
have no reason to suppose that it reasons out the relation. 
This automatic relating and reacting goes on to some 
degree, perhaps we might say to a large degree, all our 
lives, but in proportion as it fails to give the agreeable 
result we are forced to greater consciousness and varied 
reactions. 

This is the kernel of the whole problem of the develop- 
ment of thought within each of the main divisions just 
outlined. We have various studies on the Later asso- 
development of thought and the differences ciations 
between children and adults to which we must briefly 
refer. We saw in a previous chapter that when asked 
to give definitions of common terms the younger children 
defined by use or movement, while the older tended 
more to the use of larger terms. Ellison found a similar 
distinction among the four hundred and seventy-two 
children studied, and states that what might be called 
a fair definition did not appear before the tenth year. 
Among the youngest, eight-year-old children, the most 
common form of definition was to give an example. 
In more detail, the studies of Ziehen, Meumann, Winteler, 
Wreschner, and Rusk show that in giving association 
words to children to get their first associations the following 
classification is increasingly difficult: i. If a whole is 
named to name a part of it; 2, the reverse of this; 3, 
a coordinate; 4, a free concrete term; 5, a superordinate 
term; 6, a subordinate term; 7, a free abstract term; 
8, a causal relation. 

In general, this shows how childish thought advances 
from the concrete to the abstract, and these same studies 



232 T li c Child 

agree with Colvin and others in indicating that the 
clear visual imagery of childhood gradually passes over 
From ^^^^ ^^^ relatively indefinite verbal imagery 

visual to of youth and maturity. Rusk agrees with 
ver a Binet that in the latter period thought may 

go on without imagery. (Imagery in Binet's sense does 
not include the kineesthetic factors.) 

Still another point of view which seems to show similar 
differences is given in Lindley's study of puzzles. He 
Trial and ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ persons attempting to solve 
error to the puzzle choose one of three chief methods, 

concep ion ^hich, of course, have many variants and 
combinations. The younger or the less intelligent use 
the method of trial and error, blindly fumbling at the 
puzzle, succeeding by chance, and learning only by the 
cumulative pleasurable effect of success. Next higher 
is what may be called the rcccptual method, in which 
there is some vague comprehension of the best point 
of attack, but nothing distinct; and third, the conceptual, 
in which the person thinks it out with considerable 
distinctness. 

He also found this difference reflected in the order of 
age interests for puzzles. Beginning with three or four 
years, and going up, the interest develops thus: riddles 
and very simple mechanical puzzles, charades, catches 
and quibbles, arithmetical, more complex mechanical, 
geometrical, language, and, finally, logical and per- 
sonal dilemmas, the last two scarcely appearing before 
puberty. 

These give us certain large and important differences 
between the different stages, but within each period what 
particular ideas develop most or first depends largely 
on the child's surroundings. Here we very much need 
observations to trace the natural development of our 



Conception and Reasoning 233 

fundamental concepts, and can give only a sketchy 
account. 

Ideas of space, with the related ideas of distance, 
direction, position, measuring, and so on, are derived 
primarily from active touch, and this we 
have seen develops even early in embryonic 
life. The unborn child adapts itself to the space relations 
under which it lives, gets sensations of contact from the 
uterine wall and also from one part of its body touching 
another, and so in all probability at least vaguely localizes 
the part of the body touched even before birth. With 
the possibilities of movement after birth and the combina- 
tion of touch and visual sensations, we have seen how 
the perception of objects and of their position relative to 
each other and to the child develops. Distance means 
the movement needed to grasp or go to an object seen. 
Very early the child acquires a working knowledge of 
distance, direction, and so on, but the ideas of units of 
distance larger than his own experience, such as the mile, 
are likely to remain vague up to adult life, and of course 
exactness in calculation of the smaller units, like the foot 
and the yard, will be lacking unless special training 
be given. 

The sense of time is similarly confused, and, from what 

few observations we have, remains so for a considerable 

time. Chamberlain's child at two years and ^, 

, . -^ , Time 

eight months used many time terms, such as 

this afternoon, this month, this summer, by and by, now, 

then, but did not seem to know their meaning. According 

to the Binet tests, children do not, on an average, know 

the difference between morning and afternoon until 

they are six, and not until nine can they give the days 

of the week in order, and name the day of the week 

and month, the month and the year, — that is, give the 



234 T Ji c C h il d 

complete date. The months of the year given in order 
belong to the ten-year-old tests. 

Again, Miss Patterson collated 2,337 answers of grade- 
school children to the question "What does 1895 mean?" 
There were many blanks before eight years, and she 
concludes that the sense of historical time is utterly 
lacking before seven, and is slight up to twelve. We 
need many more observations here. 

The baby's ideas of number are vague in the extreme; 
number in the abstract does not, of course, exist for 
Concept of him. He knows only many things or this 
number one particular thing. At eighteen months 

Ribot says a child can distinguish concepts of one, two, 
and several. Dewey also notes that three children 
observed by him, varying in age from sixteen to twenty- 
eight months, paired ofiE objects. Two could be counted 
but not three. At three years, Ribot says, a child can 
distinguish 1,2, and 4, or 2 x 2. At five years, Binet sa3'S, 
he can count four. The baby's first vague impressions 
of quantity and mass are made more distinct through his 
own movements in touching and handling objects, and 
he is also aided by the regular alternations and rhythms 
in his experiences and in his bodily reactions. We know 
that in his first counting a little child is very likely to 
touch or tap as he counts, and that he likes to group the 
objects or words in counting by pronounced accents. He 
enjoys singing the multiplication tables, for instance. We 
must also distinguish, with the little child, between repeat- 
ing number names, and real counting. A child will often 
apparently count to a high number, but when asked to 
show ten objects or twenty objects, he will be at a loss. 
Not infrequently a child takes the name of the number for 
the name of the object. If, for instance, the third object 
happen to be a willow rocker, he may think it a "three." 



Conception and R c a s o ni n g 235 

When a child has really learned to count, he delights 
in it, both counting the objects about him, and merely 
counting, without reference to particular objects. The 
boards in the sidewalk, the blades of grass, the stones 
in the road, are all enumerated, when he is not occupied 
in numbering up to hundreds of thousands, or to millions 
or billions. 

At first, the child's idea of growth is simply that of 
increase in size. It does not include the idea of increas- 
ing complexity of the parts. To the childish Concept of 
mind, a stone may grow as readily as a child. growth 
Ivlr. Sully has some speculations on childish ideas of 
growth which are interesting, though, perhaps, not so 
general in their application as he believes. A child, he 
says, cannot believe that things come from nothing or 
go to nothing; hence the natural idea of a cycle, babies 
growing to men, and men growing back to babies. 
Babies, a child is told, come from various places, heaven 
among others. He knows that they get larger by eating 
and drinking, and that after a time they stop growing 
and begin to shrink. Old people are frequently small, 
they are spoken of as childish, and when they die they 
are carried to heaven by the angels, hence they must 
grow still smaller after they die. 

A child's ideas about the origin of life, the meaning of 
family relationships, and so on, inevitably are determined 
by the superficial view of what he sees and hears, unless 
special information is given. Many children think 
brothers and sisters are all the children in one house, 
fathers all the grown men, and so on. 

The sense of self and the ideas about the self, though 
interdependent, may yet be distinguished. The sense 
of self depends upon all the stimuli coming in from all 
parts of the body, both internal and superficial, and 



236 T li c C li i I d 

many of the resulting sensations, especially those from 
the vegetative oigans, lungs, heart, and so on, are so vague 
and slight that they defy analysis. The ideas 
about the self come from the stronger sensa- 
tions, and in health these are derived largely from the 
surface of the body, the special senses, and our move- 
ments. In the very brief space that can be devoted to 
this important subject, I follow Dr. Hall. In returns 
to questionnaires on the part of the body first attracting 
children, the following was the order of frequency: 
first, hands and fingers, then feet and toes, ear and nose. 
Eyes of course must come later, but the eyes of others 
are attractive to babies, and many children love to 
watch their own eyes in a mirror. Their own hair is also 
very attractive, and their teeth. Tongue and nails are 
experimented with by many children. Other parts of 
the body are much less attended to, though individual 
children may develop fondness for particular parts. 
Thus the child at first thinks of the surface of his body 
and scarcely at all of what is inside the skin. 

The first things inside the skin to be noticed are the 
hard bones, and many questions are asked about them 
between three and five years. Next comes the stomach. 
The heart beat and breathing attract attention to them, 
cuts to the blood, and so on. But these ideas remain 
crude in the extreme unless special pains are taken to 
give the proper information. 

As early as the second year the child associates its 
clothes closely with itself, especially shoes, and this is 
probably connected with recognition of himself in the 
mirror and so the forming of a more complete visual 
image of himself. 

The use of the personal pronouns is ordinarily con- 
sidered one of the imijortant signs of a growth in 



Conception and Reasoning 237 

self-consciousness, but the dates for their correct use and 
the order in which the various forms appear differ con- 
siderably. Sully reports a case in which "I" was used 
as early as the sixteenth month, but Preyer's boy did not 
use "mich" until the thirty-second. Other observations 
range between these. Gheorgov is probably correct in 
saying that the order in which the forms are learned 
depends especially upon those most frequently heard. 

When the distinction is made between the body and 
the self, children conceive the self in the most various 
forms, according to some chance associations — as a 
flower, animal, room — but most often, like primitive 
peoples, as a shadow-like form resembling the body. It 
seems no more possible to eliminate imagery here than in 
religious thought, and our endeavor ought to be to find 
an image which shall be flexible enough to include all the 
wider ranges of personality. This distinction between 
body and self as the first differentiation of the material 
and immaterial, is very significant. Probably it must 
follow the rise of imagination, and it may be causally 
related to the feeling of power over his mind that the 
child gets when he finds he can invent stories that never 
really happened. The feeling of strangeness is seen in 
such questions as: What am I? What do I do when I 
think? You can strike my hands but not the real me. 
What is it that is sorry in me? Again, this rise of self- 
consciousness makes children watch themselves in the 
mirror when they cry, talk to themselves, scold and 
praise themselves, and so on. 

Taking a somewhat different standpoint, the difference 
between the self and the not-self is impressed upon the 
baby from the beginning in his contacts with and manipu- 
lations of things, especially those that offer some resist- 
ance. The way in which his sense of other personalities 



238 The C It i I d 

is built up we shall touch upon in considering imitation, 
and the chapters on the child's characteristic ways of 
acting may be considered as in truth discussions of the 
developing sense of self. The whole process of building 
up an adequate concept of self and of others is the most 
complex in our experience, and involves the wide range 
of all intellectual, emotional, moral, aesthetic, and reli- 
gious experiences, as well as of our efficiency in the various 
fields of motor skill, in our profession, and so on. In 
its wider ranges it is the history of civilization. 

From the sketchy accounts so far given, it is painfully 
evident how defective is our knowledge of the growth 
Formine °^ children's ideas in specific fields. It is 

correct even more so with regard to the subjects of 

concep s ^^^ curriculum. Children's ide,as about the 

earth and its inhabitants, the town or city where they 
li\^c and their government, the animals and flowers 
about them, the materials and tools which they must 
use, the food they eat, and so on, should be, at least to 
some extent, canvassed by the teacher who is just begin- 
ning a given subject. This may often be done by 
devoting the first few periods to an informal talk, draw- 
ing out the children and noting the various sources of 
error mentioned, with a view to correcting and com- 
plementing them later. If the child's ideas of a class 
depend upon his acquaintance with objects of the class, 
it is evident that the first step toward getting a correct 
idea is to give many objects with which to get acquainted. 
A child who has seen only one dog, cannot know as 
much about dogs, other things being equal, as the child 
who has played with several. A child who has seen but 
one river has a more imperfect idea of rivers than a 
child who has seen many. Of course, by far the best 
way is to show the children the actual object, but if 



Conception and Reasoning 239 

this is impossible, pictures do a great deal, especially 
pictures that differ in minor details but agree in essentials. 

It is hardly enough, however, simply to put the vari- 
ous objects or pictures or ideas before the child. He 
should be led to judge whether the differences are so 
great that the objects cannot be put into one class. 
The degree to which this comparison is carried out 
must be decided by the teacher. Kindergarten children 
notice only the more striking likenesses and differences, 
but in the ninth year a great awakening occurs. 

Such comparison is quite as important as having 
many objects because it means, once more, the forming 
of associations which bind the child's world of thought 
into a whole, and it lays the foundation for the systematic 
reasoning which occurs in later life. 

We have already answered indirectly the question 
of whether general ideas can exist in the child's mind 
before language. It seems unquestionable, Conception 
from the way that a child acts toward and Ian- 
objects that are alike, that he does have some suage 
class ideas even before he has learned to speak. 

On the other hand, there can be no doubt that lan- 
guage facilitates the formation of concepts because it 
provides a convenient forai in which to keep the idea. 
Then, too, when the baby learns to speak, the great widen- 
ing in his ability to get what he wants is a powerful 
stimulus to mental activity, and to the naming of things. 

The first questions are usually about what things are, 
and this often means only what their names are. The 
fact that this thing is a "dictionary" is itself satisfying 
enough to rest in for some time. Some children seem 
to have a mania for learning the names of objects; they 
seek for the Christian name of every fish and insect and 
leaf, and when the wearied mother tells them that there 



240 The Child 

are no such names for them, the child in pity christens 
them himself. Some anthropologists see in this a sur- 
vival of the early worship and fear of the word as a living 
thing. The Scriptures tell us that the Israelites dared 
not pronounce the true name of Jehovah; in the Middle 
Ages it was believed that there were words whose potency 
was sufficient to summon all the powers of evil to the 
aid of the bold man who spoke them; and so, in the 
httle child's satisfaction with a name, there is perhaps 
implicit belief that it has a certain force of its own. 

For a long time a child is at the mercy of verbal 
sounds, mistaking words for others that sound like 
them but are spelled differently, or getting the wrong 
word. We all have some choice examples of this. Here 
are two : One child sang lustily, 

"Dare to be a spaniel (Daniel), 
Dare to stand alone. 
Dare to have a purple spine (purpose fine). 
And dare to make it known! " 

Another one, when asked by her father what she had 
learned in Sunday school that morning, told him 
earnestly that the minister said that "he must put his 
trousers in heaven, where the moths could not get at 
them!" 

However, when a child begins to question what things 
are like, the question of what things are begins to mean 
what they are like. 

The period before nine, when all the quaint, childish 
fancies that so delight us control the child, is especially 
the age of imagination. The odd com- 
a^d^reason" parisons between familiar things, the imag- 
ining of a situation that may have led up 
to present conditions, are fancies, but they are also 
attempts to make the world unified and reasonable. 



Conception and Reasoning 241 

We have seen that the child's first class idea is the same 
as his idea of the individual, and is separated from it only- 
through varying experience. So his first reason is an 
image or a craving, as is also the reason of many adults, 
and takes the form of logic only with a later develop- 
ment. When we ask a child why he did this, it is hard 
for him to say, because his reason is probably only a 
desire, a picture of himself enjoying a certain thing, and 
it is hard to put this into words. "Because," or "Because 
I wanted it," is as far as he can go. 

In reasoning, a more developed form of thought than 
a conception is reached, for in it the relations which 
were taken for granted before are now Conceotion 
stated. The concept of table includes the and 
ideas of a flat top and of usefulness to put reasoning 
things on; but the reasoning about tables, expounds that 
this is a table because all tables have the same qualities 
that this has. We recognize clearly now relations that 
before have either been unseen or only obscurely seen. 

Reasoning takes three common forms — the tracing 
of a particular cause to a particular effect; the discovery 
of a law or truth or system from observation of particular 
facts; and the classifying under an already known law 
the facts afterward observed. We will consider the 
child's reasoning under these heads. 

Throughout all the child's thinking, as in his imag- 
ining, he works from a personal world to an imper- 
sonal. His first ideas of cause and effect Reasonine 
are doubtless obtained from his own move- from cause 
ments and their results, and the sense of e ec 
power appears to have its rise with the first volitions 
or persistent imitations in the period between four and 
six months. During this period the child seems to be 
experimenting to see what he can do. He repeats and 



242 The Child 

varies a movement ad infinitum, discovering the possi- 
bilities and limitations of his movements, and at every 
step connecting a given movement with a certain objec- 
tive result. Thus he learns that he can always get certain 
things by doing certain others, and has the feeling of 
himself as a power or cause. In all his experiences, 
he and others like him are, more than anything else, 
the causes, or movers of things. He sees very little 
of impersonal natural causes. This strengthens what 
seems to be his instinctive tendency to refer all results 
to a personal cause. As Sully puts it: "He starts with 
the amiable presupposition that all things have been 
hand-produced, after the manner of household posses- 
sions. The world is a sort of big house where every- 
thing has been made by somebody, or at least fetched 
from somewhere." "To ask who made the animals, the 
babies, the wind, the clouds, is for him merely to apply 
the more familiar type of causation as the normal rule." 
One three-year-old girl thought that when the water 
spurted from the faucet it was choking, because it coughed. 
One child of four years thought that running water was 
alive; and another, that windmills were alive, because 
they moved. Most small mothers think that their dolls 
or pets must like the same things that they do themselves. 

Observations have been made upon kindergarten 
children to ascertain when they first asked "why." It 
was found that all children had asked "why" before 
the third year, and 75 per cent of the boys asked it before 
the second year. The first real interest in the idea of 
cause, however, is not usually shown by the first "why"; 
but appears between six months and a year later in 70 
per cent of the children. 

The objects which call out this first question vary 
considerably in boys and girls, seeming to point to certain 



Conception and Reasoning 243 

differences in the natural interests of the two. Thus 
75 per cent of the boys' questions relate to natural causes, 
while only 30 per cent of the girls' do. Such questions 
as, "Why does it grow dark?" "How does God make 
it thunder?" fall here. Fifty per cent of the boys ask 
questions about movements, such as, "Why do wheels go? " 
"Why do horses run?" while only 25 per cent of the girls 
are first interested in movement. Twenty-five per cent 
of the boys are curious about the adaptation of structure 
to function: "Why do birds have wings?" "Why 
does Towser have four legs and I only two?" The 
girls have little interest in this. 

On the other hand, the girls ask more first questions 
about God and Christ, and about domestic affairs. 
Both boys and girls always show great persistency in 
following up a question with others until a satisfactory 
answer is obtained. 

Along with this idea of personal cause goes the other 
idea, that everything has a purpose behind it, and so 
we find children ready to believe that the idea of 

sun rises for them to get up by, that the • purpose 

flowers grow for them to pick, that the rain is trying to 
plague them, and so on. 

We can realize how deep in human nature lies this 
tendency to make man the center of all things when 
we find the earliest men, the savage races of to-day, and 
even the civilized man himself doing the same thing. 
I fancy that there are few of us who have not at some time 
been thoroughly angry with some object or material that 
we could not control as we wished. In early times 
inanimate things and animals had legal punishment 
meted out to them as to persons. 

In these first experiences, what reasoning there is, 
is usually only an association of one thing with another. 



244 The Child 

Thus, the child who learns that th^ father gets home 
and then supper follows, may reverse the procedure 
Reasoning by and suppose that getting supper ready is 
association the cause of the father's arrival. 

The assertions that the object of Thanksgiving is so 
that we can have turkey, and of Christmas so that we 
can have presents, combine both forms. Little by little, 
the child is forced to discard a personal agency for a 
siniple sequence of events, and so he seems to become 
less imaginative. 

Of cause in the sense of reason, he seems to have 
little idea as yet. Sequence and analogy of sequence 
govern his thought. Mr. Brown gives numerous instances 
of this. Thus one boy would be a minister so he could 
have the money from the collection boxes. One little 
girl said she was a woman now because she had a butter 
plate given her instead of having her bread spread. 

Preyer's boy in the fifth month first connected move- 
ments with the following noises: the tearing of paper, 
the jingling of keys, the opening and shutting of a drawer 
with the accompanying sound. He would strike a spoon 
against a plate, listen, and then repeat it as if trjdng to 
see where the sound came from. His delight in produc- 
ing such results was at its maximum during the tenth 
month, and Preyer believes this indicates the knowledge 
that he was an agent or cause. But even then he had not 
learned that objects, when dropped, fall to the ground, 
and gaped with astonishment to see them go. 

By degrees, however, definite sequences are estab- 
lished, and then occurs the reasoning which is so ludi- 
Establishing crous to us and so sensible to the child. 
of sequences Qne child thought that a person with gray 
eyes must be old. Another of three years and three 
months thought that a card lying on the floor was the 



Conception and Reasoning 245 

cause of the sewing machine not going, because when 
his mother got up to pull the machine out from the 
wall, she first picked up the card from the floor. 

Analogy of sequences is seen in such cases as these: 
One child of two and a half thought that her baby sister 
only needed larger shoes in order to walk; another, 
that her eyes were bright because the sun shone into 
them as into a room; another, of five, that men are filled 
with sawdust, like dolls; a boy of five, that standing in 
the rain until he got soaked would make him grow fast, 
as it does seeds, so that he could wear "pants"! One 
girl of six, when told that gum was grease and was not 
good, reasoned thus: "Lard is in doughnuts, lard is 
grease. It's good!" and continued chewing. A boy 
of five reasoned that thunder was made in heaven in the 
same way that sounds are made in a sawmill. A girl 
of seven was afraid to eat apple seeds, lest they grow up 
to trees. Another wondered why, if she were dust, she 
did not turn to mud when she drank water. One girl 
thought her brother pale because he washed so much. 
Then, too, there is the little boy who thriftily planted 
his dime to have it grow, and another who planted bird 
seed to get more birds and sardine cans to get more 
sardines. Again, one boy thought his mother could 
round some pieces of cloth better if she had a poker to 
use as the motorman uses his to get around a corner. 
The small boy who had lost a tooth and thought the new 
tooth of his baby sister must be his, is not alone in his 
reasoning. 

Such examples show us how vague the child's ideas 
are. He has to learn that balls will roll away if his 
hands let go of them; that he can use his hands to move 
things, and so on. When we consider that a child begins 
life with no knowledge, we must admit that to learn so 



246 The C h i I d 

much in the short space of a year he reasons much instead 
of Httle. 

This purely temporal relation of one event to another, 
if it be a constant one, gives to the child his first idea 
Idea of law of law and order. In his contact with 
and order nature, he experiences certain fixed se- 
quences, such as the seasons and day and night. In 
his contact with people, and in the ordering of his daily 
life he should find the same thing in all cases where his 
mature mind will later justify the order by reasons. 
Just in proportion as we, his elders, arrange our lives 
and his according to an order controlled by laws, shall 
we help him to untangle the essential from the unessential. 

Plato, in discussing the proper education of youth, 
makes the point that we cannot get citizens who are 
obedient to law in later life unless we have trained them 
to a respect for law in childhood. Now, what Plato 
says of civil law is equally applicable to law in its widest 
sense. The child who is given meals at irregular hours, 
who is never trained to habits of bathing and cleaning 
the teeth, of sleeping, and so on, will never have a respect 
for the laws of his body. If he is trained to the fallacy 
that he can eat and drink just as he pleases, without 
bad results, that he can sleep or not and feel just the same, 
that he can bathe or not, and still be clean, he cannot 
have the belief in cause and effect that the child who 
has been taught to observe regularity in all such things 
has. Order or regularity is the same as law to the little 
child; and to primitive peoples also, custom, or the usual 
way, is the law. The reason upon which this law rests 
becomes apparent only later. Hence it is our part to see 
that children acquire habits or customs of orderly acting 
and thinking, customs which need not be disturbed when 
reason passes them in review. So shall respect and 



Conception and Reasoning 247 

obedience to law be a work of love and not of duty. 

To many it will probably seem rather pretentious to 
class the modest efforts of children to make their world 
into a connected whole under inductive 
reasoning, which is the method of scientists, reasoning or 
But precisely because the two are not usually attempts at 
associated in our thought, we wish to unite ^l^tne 
them here. The child mind is trying, though 
spasmodically, to reach to a system of thought. He does 
not like to live in a chaotic world, and although his 
efforts to produce order are greatly limited by his inex- 
perience and by his undeveloped power of attention, the 
desire for unity which impels him is the same as that which 
impels the scientist. 

In discussing the child's thoughts about nature, Sully 
says that we can see some crude attempts to form a 
system and to get back to the first cause which will explain 
all else. In what little we know of the child's naive 
thoughts on this subject we are strongly reminded of 
the speculations of the early philosophers. The child, 
too, wonders who made God; who were the first people 
and who took care of them when they were babies; 
where the first hen came from, and so on. The child, 
like the race, seems first to ask "why" and only later to 
become interested in "how" and satisfied with it. 

When he comes to frame his cosmology, things are 
taken for what they seem. The earth is flat and the 
sky round ; the stars and the moon shine through holes in 
the sky and are lamps for God or the angels. Natural phe- 
nomena, like thunder and lightning, storms, wind, are 
caused by God for some definite purpose of His own. 

Most children have some such imperfect system, 
which they fill out from time to time in detail. Thus, 
one boy of six, after watching the smoke rising from a 



248 The Child 

locomotive, said he knew now that smoke made the 
sky. This was not so bad for a city dweller. 

The consistency of these childish reasonings is a subject 
on which we have as yet few exact data. Earl Barnes 
Consistency assures us that it is difficult for a child 
in reasoning iq hold a whole subject in his mind because 
his thinking is fragmentary. In drawing the story of 
the "Three Bears," for instance, a child will often forget 
the story in his delight in drawing the bears, and will 
fill the paper with bears and nothing else. This is doubt- 
less true to a certain extent, though Rossma believes 
that when actually drawing the child fills the apparent 
gaps by speech and acting. We have already seen that 
the little child's interest is immediate, and that he does 
not clearly distinguish means from ends. 

Still, we must not suppose that a child sees no connec- 
tion between cause and effect, and does no connected think- 
ing. Observations made by Miss Lillian Clow seem, on 
the contrary, to show that when children have once made 
an assumption about an object, they hold to that fairly 
well in the rest of their thinking about that object. 

Miss Clowi collected data from three hundred and sixty 
children, forty of each grade from kindergarten through 
eighth grade, in order to see how their reasoning changed 
as they grew older. She selected a sea porcupine as an 
object with which the children were unfamiliar, so that 
their reasoning would not be directly influenced by their 
knowledge, but which was yet striking enough to arouse 
curiosity and stimulate thought. This was shown to the 
children and they were asked these questions among others: 

I . What does it look like ? 

1 Unpublished data from Chicago school children. The object 
was a beautiful specimen of a sea porcupine. The tables are given 
in per cents. 



Conception and Reasoning 



249 



2. What do you think it is? Why? 

3. Where did it come from? What makes you think 
so? 

4. If it moved from one place to another, how did 
it go? 

The following tables show the answers. 

Question i Ke. i 2 "i 4. =; 6 7 8 Total 

Fish 

Porcupine 

"Porcupine fish' 
Miscellaneous. . 



Kg. 


I 


2 


3 


4 


5 


6 


7 


8 


15 


37i 


40 


475 


52^ 


85 


50 


52^ 


27I 





2^ 


17 


22 


15 


7 


42 


15 


42 











7 





2 





10 





77 


55 


37 


17 


27 


5 


7 


17 


30 



45s 

18 

2 

31 



Question 2 


Kg. 


I 


2 

57 


3 

57 


4 
62 


5 
87 


6 
65 


7 


8 


Total 


Fish 


17 


52 


85 


80 


64 


Porcupine 





5 


25 


20 


25 


7 


25 


2 


12 


io| 


"Porcupine fish". . 


6 








5 





2 


2 


10 





2 


Miscellaneous 


62 


37 


12 


12 


10 


2 


7 


2 


5 


17 



Question 3 

Sea or ocean . . . 
Lake, river . . . . 
Geog. place. . . . 
Miscellaneous. . 



Kg. 
2 


I 
22 


2 
40 


3 
40 


4 
45 


5 

75 


6 

37 


7 
77 


8 


65 


15 


30 


42 


25 


20 


12 


10 


2 


10 


2 


2 


7 


5 


2 


12 


42 


17 


22 


67 


40 


10 


25 


27 





10 


2 


2 



Total 



451 632 = 
18 j Water 



Question 4 

Swam 

Crawled or walked . 
Rolled 



Kg. 
17 


I 

47 


2 


3 


4 


5 


6 


7 


8 


70 


57 


67 


87 


65 


87 


77 


25 


15 


12 


30 


10 


2 


20 


5 


5 


17 


12 


10 


12 


10 


10 


7 


2 


12 



Total 

64 
II 
ID 



One of the interesting things in these tables is to see 
how the percentage of miscellaneous answers decreases 
from the kindergarten up. Whereas 69 per cent of the 
kindergarten children give such different answers that 
they cannot be classified, only 5 per cent of the fifth 
grade and a somewhat larger number of the eighth grade 
do. This seems to show the effect of the interchange of 



250 7 h c C h i I d 

ideas in training all children to similar habits of thought 
so that they reason in much the same way even on new 
subjects. 

In discussing the consistency of the answers, we see 
how well the children hold to a standard that they have 
. chosen. Thus if a child says in the first 

reasoning, or answer that the strange animal looks like a 
classifying figh and is a fish because it has Httle fins, 
and that it will live in water, and swim, 
he is thoroughly consistent throughout with his first 
assumption that it was like a fish. 

The answers to the first three questions were clearly 
consistent in 51I per cent of the individual papers, and 
clearly inconsistent in i6| per cent. In the remaining 
cases the child's thought seemed confused. These per- 
centages were distributed as follows: 





Kg. 


I 1 2 


3 


4 


5 


6 


7 


8 


Total 


Consistent 

Inconsistent 


283I 
10 


26 61 
16 20 


53 

23 


44 
18 


72 
19 


74 
19 


82 
13 


78 
17 


51 
16 



We should hardly seem justified from these figures 
in concluding that even the little child's thought is 
predominantly fragmentary. It may be true that the 
systematic questioning made the children relate their 
answers more closely than they would have done if left 
to themselves, so that the percentage of consistency may 
be a Httle higher than it should be ; but even so, it would 
seem that a child's thought is not so much inconsistent 
as it is incomplete. 

The improvement in consistency from 28^ per cent in 
the kindergarten to 78 per cent in eighth grade is very 
marked, and is closely paralleled by Mr. Hancock's 
observations on reasoning about numbers. They show 



Conception and Reasoning 251 

an improvement from 40 per cent of correct reasonings 
at the a^e of seven years to 86 per cent at fifteen. 

A simple form of deductive reasoning is seen in the 
adaptation of means to ends, as when the year-old child 
pulls the tablecloth over to bring a dish Adapting 
within reach, or climbs into a chair for the means to 
same purpose. Or when the three-year-old ®" ^ 
feigns a cough in order to get some cough drops. A more 
elaborated form is seen in the boy of four who wanted 
to get a bone from a dog. When he found that he could 
not catch the dog by chasing him, he got a stick and 
brought it to the dog to smell. In smelling, the dog 
dropped the bone, and after one unsuccessful trial the boy 
got it. Akin to this is the thriftiness of the boy who, when 
given some money, bought some court-plaster "because I 
might need it some time." We have also the numberless 
plans to escape punishment. One little child scrawled 
the newly papered wall, and when confronted with a 
whipping by an indignant mother, appealed to her affec- 
tions thus: ''I just writed a letter to my dear papa. 
Ain't my papa lobely?" 

In its more logical form deductive reasoning is seen 
with especial clearness in the solution of arithmetical 
problems, and as the teaching of arithmetic Arithmetical 
is also an important part of the curriculum, reasoning 
the observations and experiments along this line will be 
briefly referred to. 

We should distinguish rather sharply mere ability to 
count and to perform the fundamental operations from 
ability to solve problems. In the first two the drill 
element is much larger than in the last. We have noted 
that in the Binet tests, one of the five-year-old tests is to 
count four pennies, pointing to them; one of the seven- 
year-old tests is similarly to count thirteen pennies, and two 



252 The Child 

thirds of the six-year-old children are saia to fail on this. 
Bonser, however, testing forty-five children just entering 
school, found the median number to which they could 
count was 100, and the range of variation 3 to 1,000. He 
does not indicate whether there was any test of knowledge 
of what this meant or whether it was mere rote repeating. 
The various tests of the ability to reason all show, as 
we should expect, improvement with age and training, 
whether the problems are concerned with arithmetic, or 
with cases of false reasoning, assuming that the subject 
matter is familiar. But it also appears that not infre- 
quently school children are expected to reason without 
the necessary basis of familiarity with the data to be 
handled. One of the most important investigations here 
is that of Bonser. He gave four kinds of tests: arith- 
metical problems such as those ordinarily found in text- 
books; controlled associations (filling in a blank in a 
sentence, and also crossing out the unsuitable one of two 
suggested words in a sentence); writing the opposites to 
a list of sixty words; selective judgment — choosing the 
correct reason among ten given for the truth of a state- 
ment, choosing the correct definition out of five given; 
and literary interpretation, which consisted in giving the 
content of certain stanzas in the pupil's own words. 
Bonser tested seven hundred and fifty-seven children from 
fourth, fifth, and sixth grades, nearly equal numbers of 
boys and girls. The hardest test was that of literary inter- 
pretation, then selective judgment, mathematical judg- 
ment, and controlled association. The percentage of 
improvement from grade to grade is very suggestive. For 
boys it is: 32.44 per cent from A to 5B ; 3.21 to 5A; 16.43 to 
6B;9.62to6A. For girls, 12.50; 12.82; 14.24; 8.48. That 
is, the improvement of the girls is much steadier than 
that of the boys, and that of the boys is much the greatest 



Conception and Reasoning 253 

between the first two grades. Correlation between indi- 
vidual tests ranges from .45 to .53; but correlation 
between each individual test and all the tests taken 
together, ranges from .85 with the opposites test to only 
.37 with the literary interpretation test. That is, the 
pupil who stands well in the opposites test will average 
well in the others, but the correlations between the indi- 
vidual tests indicate that the abilities tested are too 
different for us to infer from test to test. Stone's tests 
in arithmetic alone point in the same direction. He 
found (testing six thousand children) that the correlations 
between the fundamental operations are very high — .92 to 
.95 ; that is, children good in one are very likely to be good 
in all. But the highest correlation of a fundamental with 
reasoning is that of subtraction, and that is only .50, while 
that of addition is only .32. A child may be very good 
in addition,- subtraction, multipHcation, and division with- 
out being good in reasoning. 

Though it is aside from our main problem here, we 
ought to note that both Rice's and Stone's studies, in 
which large numbers of children from various cities were 
tested, show no constant relation between the amount of 
time spent in arithmetic and the good results obtained. 

Fox and Thomdike, testing seventy-seven high-school 
pupils along this same line, found similar independence 
between the fundamental operations, problems, and 
working with fractions. 

These tests as already noted touch only upon the de- 
ductive aspect of reasoning, and only upon a small part 
of that. The application of a code of morality, a standard 
of truth, of beauty, to particular cases would give still 
other phases of this subject, and these will be touched 
upon in connection with moral, aesthetic, and religious 
ideas. Construction is still another phase. 

17 



254 The Child 

In considering what use parents and teachers can make 
of the rather fragmentary data given in this chapter, at 
Need of ^QSLSt two fundamental pedagogical situations 

genuine appear. The first is the large one of putting 

problems ^-^^ ^j^-^^ under conditions which will demand 
from him thoughtful adaptation not beyond his powers 
of accomplishment. Nonnally, children are both inquisi- 
tive and adaptive; they love change and reaction to 
change, and if they are supplied with plenty of sense 
material, as already indicated, they will go far even alone. 
We have also seen how spontaneously they create and 
imagine for pure love of doing so, and much more when 
there is some need to motivate the action. The mother 
and teacher can supply situations demanding planned 
action, and should do so. 

Another of the best ways to encourage this as well as 

systematic thought is by wise answering of questions. 

. There is a certain kind of questioning into 

which some children fall automatically. 

They do not ask because they do not hear or because 

they want to know, but simply for the sake of saying 

^, . , something. Usually, if no answer is given 
Educational , , . ^ , . , ■, 

bearings: them they wander on to somethmg else, and 

children's from that to something else. Frequently 
they themselves know the answer to the 
question they ask. Such a bad habit can usually be 
broken by asking in turn of the child the question he has 
asked, thus making him realize how foolish or how 
thoughtless he has been. However, when a child waits 
for an answer, and persists in the question, he should be 
answered in as true and scientific a way as he can under- 
stand, and should be encouraged to ask more questions, 
instead of being repressed. 

Wonder, or curiosity in the good sense, is the root of 



Conception and Reasoning 255 

all love of knowledge, and it is one of the greatest dis- 
credits to our present school system that it is more likely 
to crush this tendency than to nurture it into the 
scientific spirit. The child who enters school curious at 
every point, overflowing with questions, and brimful of 
wonder and reverence at the mysterious things about 
him, becomes in a few years passive and quiet, a receptacle 
for any information that is poured into him, and blind to 
any value or beauty that it has. The teacher asks all 
the questions and he has to answer them. Seldom are 
the tables turned. Such a condition is very different 
from the ideal school, in which there is a constant give 
and take in question and answer between teacher and 
pupils, and where both teacher and pupils are learners. 
Both have doubts to settle, and can settle them best by a 
free discussion. 

Again, we often do not know how to answer a child's 
question in a way that he can understand. When he asks 
why it thunders, or why the leaves fall off, it is puz- 
zling to know what to say. Often, if we can cite some 
similar case, it satisfies him. If he has ever seen an 
electric spark, he will probably be contented to know that 
the lightning and thunder are just a big spark and the 
noise that it makes. Such an answer has the further 
advantage of connecting in the child's mind similar 
phenomena, and of forming the habit of looking for 
such similarities. Certainly it is useless to give the 
child superstitions about such well understood scientific 
facts as these. There is, however, the question of whether 
we should answer a child imaginatively or literally. 
Mr. Sully is authority for the statement that when a child 
is in the imaginative age, between four and eight, we can 
best answer such questions as why the leaves fall by 
saying they are tired of hanging on the trees. We can 



256 The Child 

say Jack Frost draws the pictures on the window pane, 
and in various ways assume, as the child himself does at 
this time, that all causes are persons. In this connection 
we have also the much mooted question of whether we 
shall teach children to believe in Santa Claus and fairies. 

There is, I believe, a point to be made here which 
sets a standard for the sort of answer to be given. It is 
certainly true that the child from four to eight years old 
lives in a world that is personal through and through, 
and that he delights in Santa Claus and fairies. Now, 
the point is this: Can we not answer his questions 
imaginatively, and still in such a way as to present the 
scientific truth, though not in a literal form? There 
is a certain truth in the statement that the leaves are 
tired of hanging on to the trees, and that they drop off 
because they are old and weak. The child told this goes 
on easily, when he can, to the knowledge of the changes 
in the leaf that dry it and let it drop ofiE. The essential 
thing is to state the truth as nearly as we can, though in 
the imaginative fonn, and not to give a child the imagina- 
tive answer when he is old enough for the scientific. 

Finally, to cultivate a child's reasoning powers, there 
is no better way than to start with his own question, 
Cultivating and answer enough of it to give him the 
reasoning necessary information and the curiosity 
to think out the rest of the answer. Constantly suggest 
the question of how this fact is related to that: If leaves 
drop off because they are tired, why do not the oak and 
evergreen leaves get tired? Or do they get tired too? 
Why do the leaves come out in the spring? If lightning 
is an electric spark, why don't we use it in our houses, 
as we do electricity? Lead the child, through imitation 
and suggestion, to form the habit of questioning and of 
thinking out the answers to the questions. The person 



Conception and Reasoning 257 

who can question wisely renders the greatest intellectual 
service possible to another in the way of stimulation and 
suggestion. It has been well shown in the Aussage 
tests that all questions have something of a suggestive 
power, if not in their own form then in the manner, 
inflections, and so on, of the questioner. A question is 
fundamentally a command or an appeal, and involves 
factors of will and emotion in addition to that of knowl- 
edge, when the situation is normal. Unfortunately, 
many teachers do not consider questions as aids to 
purposive thinking for their pupils, but use them only 
for the purpose of testing knowledge already acquired, 
and even then they oftentimes suggest the answer by the 
way they ask the question. As a result, the pupils soon 
learn to pay less attention to the content of the question 
than to the manner of asking, and become adepts at 
giving correct answers without much real knowledge of 
the subject under discussion. If we teachers could give 
purposive, non-suggestive questions adapted to the 
pupils a long step would be taken toward obtaining 
ideal schools. 

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1905, 327-366. 
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258 The Child 

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Burt, Cyril. Tests of Higher Mental Processes. Jour. Exp. 
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Colvin, S. S. Ideational Types in School Children. Ped. Sem., 
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Cooley, C. H. Early Use of Self Words. Psy. Rev., 1908, 339-357. 

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Ellison, L. Children's Capacity for Abstract Thought as Shown by 
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Griggs, G. O. Pedagogy of Mathematics. Ped. Sem., Sept. 

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Conception and Reasoning 259 

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26o The Child 

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CHAPTER XI 

Religious Sentiment and Theological Ideas 

Question the children on the following points: 

1. God. Where is He? What does He do? Why 
can we not see Him? Observa- 

2. Death. Why do people die? Where ^^^^^ 

, , ., borrowed 

do they go? from Earl 

3. Heaven. Where is it? Who go there? Barnes 
What do they do there? What will children have there? 

4. Hell. What must a person do to go there? What 
is it like? 

5. Angels. What do they do? 

6. Ghosts. Why are people afraid of them? 

7. Witches. What can they do? 

8. Prayer. Why do people pray? Why do they not 
get what they pray for? 

9. Why do people celebrate Christmas? Why do 
they go to church? 

In entering upon a subject on which there "are so 
many differing opinions, a word as to the standpoint 
taken is necessary. The attempt is made introduc- 
here, as elsewhere, to state in an unbiased ^^^^ 
way all the facts so far reached by actual observation and 
questioning of children and adults, and to draw only what 
conclusions are warranted by those facts. The funda- 
mental principle that the teaching of childhood largely 
determines the adult's belief is the idea which is here 
worked out in detail. The close connection between 
physical and mental states also receives further emphasis 

261 



262 The Child 

from the study of religious phenomena, and we do not 
believe that religion is belittled by the acknowledgment of 
this connection, any more than natural science is. Rather, 
the necessity of religion is emphasized. 

The attempt to sum up religious feelings, conver- 
sions, and so on, in tables may also seem to some to be, 
from the very nature of the case, futile. It must be 
remembered, however, that these data are obtained from 
the individuals undergoing the experiences thus tabulated, 
— just as were the data for imagination and memor^^ — and 
are reliable to the same degree. Doubtless more data 
are needed to corroborate those given, but equally are 
more needed to discredit them. They are simply con- 
tributions to aid in solving the difficult problem of re- 
ligious instruction. 

At the outset, it is necessary to differentiate certain 
terms that in common consciousness overlap or are 
Morality confused. Morality, religion, and theology 

religion, and are not identical, and yet it is difticult to 

®° °^y separate them. The difference may, per- 

haps, be stated concisely thus: They represent three 
aspects of human nature— religion is the feeling or longing 
for unity, the feeling of sin, the consciousness of imper- 
fection, and the striving for harmony with the good. It 
is primarily emotional, not volitional or intellectual. 
Theology is the interpretation which the intellect gives; 
the formulating or the explanation of this "feeling of 
incompleteness and striving for perfection. Morality, 
again, is the code of action and the actual living toward 
perfection as we conceive it, the holding of right relations 
to our fellow-men and to God. Theology gives the men- 
tal content to religious feeling, and morality is reHgion 
incarnate. A man may, then, be religious, that is, he may 
have the religious spirit, without believing in any creed 



Religious Sentiment and Theological Ideas 263 

or dogma; and, indeed, so Professor Leuba says, with- 
out believing in a God, if he has this active longing 
for perfection, for a better than he. His theology- 
may be science or philosophy, or any kind of knowledge 
whatever. 

If we accept this general statement we can easily see 
that theologies and systems of morality will vary from 
age to age, according to public opinion and the prog- 
ress of knowledge; but that the underlying religious 
feeling, the striving of the self toward a better self, 
will remain as the source or motive of all our theologiz- 
ing and moralizing. Marshall, indeed, maintains that 
there is a religious instinct, an inborn desire to reach 
beyond one's petty self, and that this is the root of 
all altruism — the emphasis of the race as against the 
individual. 

Froebel also maintains that the germ of the reli- 
gious spirit exists even in the baby, in the feeling of com- 
munity and dependence between himself Religious 
and the mother; and Baldwin, voicing the spirit and 
opinion of many writers of to-day, looks ^°"^ ^P^" 
upon the religious sentiment as the highest outgrowth 
of the ethical and social sentiments. We cannot, he 
believes, say properly that the little child is religious 
except as he is social. His first love, trust, and dependence 
are directed toward the "people about him. Only later, 
and by slow degrees, does he learn to transfer these 
feelings to an invisible God. 

In these relations to people he is developing more 
sense (i) of his own personality, and (2) of that of others. 

In the religious sentiment, the first element gives 
content; the second, mystery and awe. 

Thus we find that children interpret God and heaven 
in terms of their familiar experience, making oftentimes 



264 The Child 

the most grotesque and bizarre combinations. God is a 
big man and Satan a bogie, heaven is a glorified earth, 
Child's ^^^ ^° ^^^ along the line. The little child 

images of looks on father and mother much as adults 
do on God, and relying upon them for help, 
learns his first lessons in religious trust and faith. 

So, also, the child may look upon any person or thing 
that is very strong as a god. Sully quotes the case of 
a little boy of four years who, on seeing a group of 
workmen, asked his mother if they were gods, "because 
they make houses and churches same as God makes 
moons and people and ickle dogs." The idea of God 
is, at first, only that of a person more powerful than 
others. 

As the child's mind develops, he comes to look upon 
father and mother as the all-wise to whom obedience 
must be given and from whom knowledge may be 
obtained, but who must also, on occasion, be deceived 
or propitiated. God is, then, the great lawgiver. 

The question of whether a child left without any 
religious instruction at all would form an idea of God, 
Effect of no ^^ difficult to answer, for all children hear 
religious more or less talk about religious matters. 
training There is, however, a case of an uninstructed 

deaf-mute, M. d'Estrella, who fomied for himself the 
idea of a "Strong Man behind the hills, who threw the 
sun up into the sky, puffed the clouds from his pipe, and 
sent out the wind when he was angry." It would be 
strange, indeed, if any reflective mind did not reach 
some idea of a cause of the world, and the first tendency 
is always to make the cause a person. 

Furthermore, we have already seen that little children 
are thoroughly animistic, that they naturally interpret 
everything going on about them in terms of personality, 



Religions Sentiment and Theological Ideas 265 

so that objects and animals, to say nothing of the larger 
forces of nature, are looked upon as acting for or against 
the child, as meaning him good or ill. If Natural 

they seem to be more powerful than he, fear religion 

and the attempt to propitiate are inevitable ° ^ ' 

next steps, and then we have a form of religion. 

We cannot, therefore, agree with Ames in his position 
that children before nine years cannot pass beyond the 
non-moral and non-religious attitude to any great degree. 
They cannot attain the adult standpoint and have 
the rehgion and morality of a mature mind, all would 
admit, but that is far from saying that they have no 
religion or morality. We may grant that their reli- 
gion is superstition and their morality the relatively 
external condition of obedience and custom, but we may 
at the same time insist that the child who does not 
attain to these is in all probability defective or dis- 
tinctly abnormal. 

Dawson's position seems nearer the truth. He says 
that the natural religion of children consists of three chief 
factors — it is animistic, has belief in a personal cause, 
and has belief in personal immortality. Various returns 
show that children natvirally assume that they never die, 
and that the first thought of annihilation is not only 
intolerable but hardly conceivable. We know how early 
in primitive religions dreams, shadows, echoes, and similar 
phenomena gave rise to the belief in a spirit world, the 
animistic mind seizing with avidity upon every evidence 
of continuance of personality. We may feel that this 
belief stands condemned by science, but we still have left 
the question of how we shall deal with it in the child 
without religion. Shall wc bring him up in ignorance of 
the great race religion, the tremendous religious emotions 
and forces at work in every community, because we do 



266 The Ch ild 

not approve the theological form they may have taken? 
Shall we leave reverence, inspiration, awe, and prayer 
out of his life because we are not sure there is an objective 
or personal God ? 

We have also one full account of the theological ideas 
of a boy brought up without religious training, whose 
Bergen's parents were opposed to current religious 
account ideas, but who was accidentally informed of 

religious matters by neighbors and occasional attendance 
at church. It is interesting as showing the effect of early 
surroundings in as marked a way as the other records to 
be quoted later. 

No religious instruction was given this boy, and he was 
not told his parents' bcHef until fifteen years of age; 
servants were warned not to speak of religious matters, 
no grace was asked at table, and all religious terms used 
in his presence were spelled. Naturally, he became very 
curious to know what the spelled words meant. He first 
went to church to an Easter service when seven years of 
age, but did not understand at all the symbolism of the 
spring-time resurrection. When ten years old he went 
for the second time to a CathoHc vesper service, at which 
he was impressed by a large painting of Christ. When 
twelve years of age he was encouraged to go to church, 
but showed great distaste for it. 

He knew something about death even when three years 
old, but had no fear of it until eleven, when a physical 
shrinking, which he did not outgrow for several years, 
manifested itself. He was unable to conceive of the soul 
as immaterial at ten years of age, and hunted for it in all 
parts of dead animals. At twelve, he said that the 
resurrection could not have happened, for in respect to 
death people were in the same condition now that they 
were two thousand years ago. 



Religious Sentiment and Theological Ideas 267 

He grew very eager to read the Bible, because he 
noticed that people spoke differently of it from what 
they did of other books; but when a New Testament 
was given him, at the age of ten, he soon tired of it. At 
eleven, he explained the accounts of miracles as exaggera- 
tions of some real act of Jesus due to the repeating of it 
by one person to another. 

When about fifteen years old he admitted that there 
must be some force or cause back of the physical world, 
but he maintained that we had no reason to say that 
this force was a person, and that it was behttling to 
worship a thing; therefore worship was senseless. Thus, 
the Gradgrind method produced the same results in 
religion as in any other field. 

In the case of children who receive the usual religious 

training, there is an unquestioning acceptance of what is 

told them up to the seventh year. Between _,.,,, ,^. 
, ■, -, 1 1 Child's atti- 

the seventh and the tenth year there are tude toward 

some qtiestions, and after ten, attempts to religious 

. , . • . 1 -1 instruction 

reason things out, this critical attitude 

increasing to the thirteenth or fourteenth year. The 

spirit of doubt first shows itself in attempts to place the 

responsibility for statements: as, "The Bible says," 

"My father believes," and so on. Next come attempts 

to make the theological account square with actual life 

and with the child's own ideas of kindness and justice. 

The life of eternal song has not the attractions that life 

with a calliope or drum has. The injustice of sending the 

baby sister to hell-fires leads to rebellion against the entire 

system. Still, on the whole, there is little questioning 

from most children. 

Starbuck.i who, with Barnes, has made the widest 

observations on children's theological ideas, finds the 

iStarbuck's data include 330 children; Barnes's, 1,091, 



268 The Child 

following factors predominant in the child's religious life: 
Factors 



Credulity and conformity 

Doubt 

Bargaining with God 

God as talisman 

God and heaven near 

Love and trust in God 

Awe and reverence 

Fears 

Dislike of religious observances . . 
Pleasure in religious observances. 
Keen sense of right and wrong . . 




We notice here, as usual, the unquestioning acceptance 
of statements made by parents or teachers as noted also 
by Barnes. This, Baldwin would doubtless refer to the 
child's feeling of dependence on parents. Again, the idea 
of barter and the small percentage of feehngs of love, 
reverence, and fear, in Hall's opinion, seem to point to 
parents teaching that God is a sort of servant for the 
child. Barnes's papers show essentially the same thing. 
God and heaven are most common in thought ; hell and the 
devil less so. The spiritual world is, in the main, pleasant, 
but is peopled with strange forms, doing unreal things. 

Natural phenomena are hardly mentioned in relation 
to God. He seems to the child's consciousness wholly 
distinct from the world. 

Children, as a rule, have very vague ideas about what 
God and Christ do, or what reUgious observance is for. 
One boy says God bosses the world, but usually they 
seem to think that the angels do the practical work. 
The relation of Christ to God is reversed in one fourth 
of the cases where he is mentioned, and in the majority 
of cases he is not even mentioned. The Trinity is 
spoken of by only two children out of one thousand and 
ninety-one. 



Religious Sentiment and Theological Ideas 269 

The virtues which are most commonly considered 

necessary in order to get to heaven are: being very 

good, keeping the commandments, bcHeving „ .. . 
■ n^ I ■ n A • A Religious 

m (jod, loving bod, praymg, and so on, — feeling and 

all in the line of religious observance, and poral sense 
not at all of practical morality. 

Children do not name teachers as the source of their 
ideas, but parents, church, pictures, and the "hired girl." 

If these reports are typical, it would seem that up to 
the age of twelve the child's theological consciousness con- 
sists, as a rule, simply of statements made by others and 
accepted without doubt; that the religious feeling is not 
yet separated from the feeling of dependence and mystery 
excited by parents and companions; and that the moral 
sense is only the sense of what custom demands. Shame 
is the shame of being found out, rather than of the doing 
of wrong, and the virtues possessed by the child are the 
result of imitation rather than of moral conviction. 

Between the ages of twelve and sixteen, however, 
comes the great period of conversion, for this is the time 
when by far the majority of professing Conversion: 
Christians join the church. If this does not average age 
occur before the age of twenty, at most, it is unlikely to 
take place later. 

Starbuck's records show that out o£ three hundred and 
thirty cases in all, the average age of conversion for girls 
was between twelve and thirteen and for boys between 
fifteen and sixteen. A second period occurs between the 
ages of sixteen and eighteen. These cases are explained 
by the fact that many of those converted then had been 
partially converted two years before, but for one cause 
or another had become indifferent. The first of these 
periods, you will notice, is at the age of puberty, and it 
seems practically certain that the oncoming of maturity 



270 The Child 

is closely connected with conversion. It is the time 
when the physical nature develops the necessity of 
another for its perfection, and this need would naturally 
be reflected in the mental and emotional life in every 
way. The vague mental longings and questionings and 
unrests due to the rapid growth of association fibers in 
the nervous centers may be in large part satisfied by 
love of the ideal, and the hero-worship of which religion 
is one fomi. This close connection between mental and 
physical growth is shown also by the records of early 
conversion (71 per cent of women and 64 per cent of 
men). Such conversions are often due to overtraining or 
strong pressure (84 per cent and 73 per cent) ; but other- 
wise they seem to accompany early physical development 
(43 and 36 per cent). 

Coming now to the meaning of the temi, "conversion" 
properly covers all awakening to the demands of the 
Meaning of higher life and dctcnnination to meet them, 
conversion whether the change be sudden or slow. 
Most writers agree in the following : 

1. The sense of sin. This is found in 17 per cent of 
revival and 20 per cent of non-revival conversions, with 
or without religious training. If we include in this the 
fear of God as the Judge, with the resultant fears of 
death and hell, we must add 15 per cent and 16 per cent 
more to each of the above, making 32 per cent and 26 
per cent, respectively. When the early life has been 
bad, this sense is, of course, more prominent, but it 
appears even when the worst sins are little faults. Pro- 
fessor Leuba says that fear is often taken for the con- 
viction of sin, and that many such cases are complicated 
with bodily disorders, as hysteria, which add to the 
feeling. This period will be referred to again later. 

2. Self-surrender. The yielding of self to the divine 



Religious Sentiment and Theological Ideas 271 

will. This appears in 10 per cent of the men and 12 
per cent of the women. It is usually preceded by much 
mental depression and meditation. Often there is 
violent resistance, wrestling with God, argument and 
doubt. This is much more prominent in men than in 
women — doubt registering wdth them 36 per cent as 
against 6 per cent in women. In a few cases this is 
followed by a determination to live a better life, but as 
a rule the order after self -surrender is hope, trust, and 
love, culminating in 

3. Faith in 16 per cent of men and 15 per cent of 
women. The nature of faith has been much discussed 
by theologians, and we cannot expect to settle what it 
should be. In actual practice, it seems, more than any- 
thing else, to be the feeling of oneness with God and 
good, and the conviction that he is to be trusted. It 
is entirely apart from intellectual conviction, and is not, 
as a rule, belief in dogmas. It is not reasonable or 
reasoned faith, but, rather, an emotional state. It leads 
directly to 

4. Justification, and the sense of forgiveness (22 per 
cent of men and 14 per cent of women), or the feeling 
of divine aid (10 and 6 per cent). Physiologically this 
is perhaps due to the inevitable reaction from the great 
nervous strain. We are speaking here of revival cases 
only. Any one who has seen a genuine old-fashioned 
revival cannot doubt that mere physical fatigue has 
in some cases much to do with conversion. A woman, 
for example, worked up to the highest nervous pitch by 
her emotions, gives way, and an attack of weeping and 
laughing with consequent relief follows, which is inter- 
preted by her as knowledge of God's forgiveness. 

5. As the natural result, there is a feeling of great 
joy. The world seems to be newly made. The whole 



272 The Child 

nature rises to a higher level, and in many cases (14 
and 18 per cent) public confession and testimony to 
the power of the divine spirit follow. 

6. The will is felt to be wholly powerless. The sub- 
ject is carried on by a power outside himself. "Saved 
by the grace of God" expresses his state of mind. It 
seems to be to a large extent a struggle between con- 
scious and unconscious factors, between habits which 
have passed below the level of attention and ideas which 
are as yet so vaguely felt as to be indescribable. It is 
again, perhaps, in large part the mental reflection of 
the bodily change — the opposition between the life of the 
individual and that of the race. 

Between the two sets of forces the child's conscious- 
ness stands dismayed. He feels himself as clay molded 
by forces far more powerful than he, forces not only 
without him, but within him — how can he feel otherwise 
than helpless, and what hope is there for him if not in God? 

Let us now take up in more detail the studies of actual 
conversions. 

In the first place it seems to be true that the nature 
of the conversion, for most people, depends to a large 
Conversion extent upon what is expected. Thus the 
and denominations like the Methodist, that 

education employ the revival method and teach the 
necessity of a sudden and absolute turning from sin, 
can show the most remarkable cases of ref omiation ; 
while those like the Episcopalian, that look for a steady 
development of the religious life, are more likely to 
secure that. 

Teaching, imitation, and social pressure in other 
ways influence 42 per cent of revival cases and 37 per 
cent of non-revival cases. We do not mean to say that 
they are the sole factors, but only that they are important. 



Religious Sentiment and Theological Ideas 273 

Allowing, however, for preconceived expectations, 
we find that many who look for sudden conversion, 
and perhaps even desire and strive for it. Conversion 
are unable to attain it, while others get and tem- 
just what they expect. perament 

Professor Coe finds that out of sixteen subjects who ex- 
pected conversion and were satisfied, twelve were in an emo- 
tional, as opposed to an intellectual, state of mind; eight 
of them had had hallucinations or motor automatisms of 
some kind, such as involuntary laughter or song, and 
many of them felt assured of special answer to prayer. 

In another group, on the other hand, out of twelve 
subjects, who expected conversion and were disap- 
pointed, nine were in an intellectual state, only one 
had either hallucinations or motor automatisms, and 
very few had direct answers to prayer. 

Under hypnotic influence, those in the first group are 
as a rule passively suggestible, while those in the second 
group, except in one or two cases, are suggestible, but are 
likely to add to or modify the suggestions in some way. 

Taking now those who are converted, Starbuck gives 
the following: 



Circumstances of Conversion 



Revival or camp meeting . 
At home after revival . . . . 

At home alone 

Regular church 

Circumstances not given . 



Men 



Women 



48% 


46% 


5 


6 


.32 


16 


4 


25 


II 


7 



The motives of conversion have been touched upon 
slightly already, in giving social motives or objective 
forces, and the sense of sin. Other motives Motives of 
also enter in. Egotistic motives, such as to conversion 
gain heaven, form 21 per cent of both revival and non- 
revival cases. These motives average highest in the 



274 The Child 

earlier years, diminishing up to the age of sixteen, then 
increasing up to eighteen, and thence dechning. Love 
of God and Christ is mentioned as a motive in but 2 
per cent of the cases, while love of a moral ideal is given 
in 15. The latter motive steadily increases in importance 
with the age of the one converted. 

These motives ought to determine the character of 
the new life, and yet the percentages do not seem to 
agree in all cases. 



Motive 


Men 


Women 


Desire to help others 

Love for others 


25% 
43 
36 
48 
5 


25% 
42 


Nearness to Nature 


32 


Nearness to God 


47 


Nearness to Christ 


6 







If love of God enter so little into conversion, it seems 
strange that the feeling of nearness to him should be 
so marked a feature of the new life, unless the desire for 
his approval is really more prominent before conversion 
than is indicated. Or, again, it may be that the mere 
feeling of relaxation, or release after the strain of expecta- 
tion, is given this meaning. 

Notice how small a part is assigned to Christ in these 
figures, obtained in nearly all cases from orthodox church 
members; and yet Christ is the central figure in the 
scheme of justification and redemption. 

Let us now consider briefly the religious life which 
is a gradual growth, without the storm and stress of con- 
Gradual version. Whether the development shall be 
growth gradual or not is to a large extent a matter 
of temperament, but gradual growth is facilitated by 
early religious surroundings and by freedom to raise 
doubts and wisdom in answering them. In such cases 
the belief in God, Christ, and immortality play a much 



Religious Sentiment and Theological Ideas 275 



more important part than in cases of sudden conversion. 
The thought is not centered so entirely upon self. 

In cases where the religious feeling was not aroused 
at puberty, some other strong interest takes its place. 
Usually this is the moral interest in 33 per cent of women 
and 43 per cent of men, but it may be intellectual (21 
and 32 per cent), or esthetic (15 and 16 per cent). 

What now are the permanent results? In the cases 
of gradual growth, doubts are usually settled as they 
rise, hence the growth is as a rule a part of permanence 
character. of conver- 

In cases of conversion, on the other hand, ^^°°^ 
there is frequently a period of reaction and reconstruc- 
tion of beHef. The tables stand thus: 





Men 


Result of 
Conversion 


Revivals 


Age 


Non-revi- 
vals 


Age 


Relapsed 

Permanent 


4«% 
15 


13-7 
17 


24% 
35 


17 5 

18.7 




Wmoen 


Result of 
Conversion 


Revivals 


Age 


Non-revi- 
vals 


Age 


Relapsed 

Permanent 


41% 
14 


12 
14-3 


14% 
17 


16 

15 -3 



This reconstruction may be, and often is, simply a 
new interpretation of religious beliefs, a more vital 
realization of the meaning of religion to the individual. 
It does not necessarily involve any break with the church, 
although the struggle is often a severe one. Or, again, it 
may lead to rupture. This period usually covers the 
period from sixteen to twenty years. 

What, then, should be the reHgious training of a child? 
When should it begin ? What should be fornial and what 



276 The Child 

incidental? These and many other questions still await 
solution, although within the last ten years many books 
have appeared and many reforms have been made in 
Sunday school work in various places. For a general 
standpoint we can hardly do better than to follow G. 
Stanley Hall's chapter on Religious Training, in Problems 
of Education. 

To the baby the parents, and especially the mother, 
stand in the place of God. The feeling of absolute 
Religion in dependence, with the love flowing naturally 
babyhood q^^ of the satisfaction of its needs, is the 
same that later should be felt toward God, and the more 
the mother and father cultivate love and gratitude toward 
themselves, the more naturally will the child feel them 
later toward the supreme source of all good. If the 
parents are wise, good, loving, the child will easily believe 
in a God that is so, but if they are capricious, governed 
by moods, or subject to the child's whims, his idea of 
God will be similarly defective. 

Again, the very establishment of regularity, order, 
and law in all the details of the child's life is the most 
efifective preparation for a later belief in universal law. 
This holds even of all the physical details — regular hours 
of eating, sleeping, and so on, but far more of the attitude 
of parents to children in matters of discipline and morality. 

By the time the child is three or four years old he 
begins to ask questions about religious as about all other 
subjects, and the question of religious instruction becomes 
pressing. How shall we begin so that when the child is 
grown he need not with suffering unlearn what he now 
acquires ? Certainly, we cannot leave a child uninstructed. 
He himself prevents this by his eager questions, and if 
we do not answer them, or if we give evasive answers, 
we get results very analogous to those resulting from 



Religious Sentiment and Theological Ideas 277 

wrong responses to questions about sexual matters. 
The child will get information, and the real question each 
parent must ask himself and answer is whether he wishes 
to give the information himself or will risk the child's 
getting it from sources he deems undesirable. 

We have already seen that early childhood is the age 
of fancy, belief in a living world, in fairies, and so on. 
We have not considered it necessary to shut in early 
out fairy tales and Santa Claus and Jack childhood 
Frost; we give the child the Greek myths, and why should 
we not give him the Hebrew myths, telling these as we 
do the others so that the central meaning shall be true 
later to his reason? 

Again, stories of the childhood and babyhood of Christ, 
the nativity, the wise men following the star and worship- 
ing the babe in the manger, the angels' song, and so 
on, appeal to little children as stories, and lay the basis for 
the intimate knowledge so desirable later. 

Dawson's questionnaire returns on the interest of 
children in the Bible give some very interesting data. 
At eight years, interest in the Old and New Bible 

Testaments was nearly equal for the boys — interests 
60 per cent preferring the New; but 70 per cent of the 
girls preferred the New. A year later, however, interest 
is equal in Old and New, and interest in the New declines 
up to 32 per cent for boys at fourteen years and 30 per cent 
for girls at twelve years. Studies in other fields would 
lead us to suppose on other grounds such results. Children 
like stories of heroes, exciting events, speedy punishments, 
strict justice,— and all these are found in the Old Testa- 
ment tales. In Dr. Hall's opinion, children's moral 
outlook is very similar to that of the Old Testament, 
and the God there depicted is the one whom they naturally 
worship. The love, pity, and self-sacrifice of Christ they 



278 T he C hi Id 

cannot understand, and still less, of course, the Epistles 
and Revelation. If they are forced prematurely to these, 
not only do they become more or less hypocritical in re- 
ligious expression, but they acquire mechanically from 
their elders fornis of thought and expression which mean 
little and which later repress the normal growth. 

At adolescence, however, when love and altruism 
and high ideals burgeon, when the sense of inadequacy 
Adolescent of the pubescent easily deepens into the sense 
religion of sin, Christ and the Gospels take on a 

deep significance. We do not sufficiently appreciate 
the fact that Christ and his apostles were adolescents. 
At twelve Christ took up his mission, and he completed 
it when he had barely reached what we now consider 
maturity. The events of his life, and especially those 
of his death and resurrection, make a stronger appeal 
at this age than at any other, and may become the strong- 
est motive for imitation and love. Here again, however, 
in Dr. Hall's opinion, the human side should predominate 
in the teaching. 

Still later, the development of Christianity — that is, 
church history, the development of missions, the historical 
aspects of the Jewish religion, and so on — becomes inter- 
esting, as does also comparative religion. 

Along with this humanistic aspect of religion goes the 
natural side. The worship of Nature and natural objects 
Nature and is a deeply rooted tendency in human nature, 
religion and appears in the child in his tendencies 

to animism, in his belief in charms and superstitions, 
and in the reverential, awe-stricken attitude toward 
great natural phenomena so well described in Dr. Hall's 
chapters in Adolescence. The child should be out in 
the starry night, in winter and summer, alone, if possible. 
He should wander in the woods and muse on the clouds, 



Religious Sentiment and Theological Ideas 279 

the shadows, the wind, and thus breathe in the infinities 
and spiritualities of space as his forbears did. To-day, 
in our endeavor that our rehgion shall be justified by its 
fruits, we are in danger of making worship nothing but 
work: The service of humanity, the institutional church, 
the belief in God as the great socius and in conscience as 
the product of social training — all these have done much 
good, especially in their rebound from the doctrine of 
faith without works. But with them religion must also 
have the factors of contemplation, awe, mystery, infinity, 
and eternity, and these it can get best from contact with 
Nature. God is more than the ideal companion; he is 
also the Eternal, which was before even the mountains 
were brought forth; he rides on the wind and speaks 
through the thunder. Conscience, too, though it take its 
form from its surroundings, bases itself upon instincts 
that antedate humanity, and the service of humanity 
itself would have no motivation were it not for instinc- 
tive feelings of which reasoning religion takes little ac- 
count. It is an interesting fact that the great mystics, so 
called, have also been persons who excelled in good 
works; while the theologians have too often left the 
hungry still hungry and the wicked unrepentant. 

Religion, then, to do its perfect work upon the tender 
child and the youth, must be allowed to adapt itself to 
their nature, and this means that it must Religion 
be a growth like the child. In its early ^ growth 
forms it will contain crudities and superstitions, and lack 
some factors which are necessary to its higher forms. 
But these will come by the way of natural development, 
if they are not prematurely forced. 

There are numerous practical questions in all directions 
which can barely be referred to here. One of the most 
puzzling to the parent who believes thoroughly in 



28o The Child 

immutable law is whether or not the child shall be 
taught to pray. Of course children do pray constantly to 
all those about them, just in proportion as they 
feel their dependence, and in the animistic 
stage of their mental growth it is inevitable that they shall 
pray to the God or gods in whom they believe. To teach 
them to pray aright is the parents' task — to so pray that 
the expression of their desires shall strengthen all the 
tendencies to good, their aspirations and ideals, and shall 
give them a conviction that the great forces of good in 
the universe are working with them. Nothing, on the 
other hand, can be much worse than to allow children to 
pray for material goods, for specific pleasures, for this 
makes God a special sort of servant who can be pro- 
pitiated or bought. 

Again, there are the various problems connected with 
the Sunday schools, and with the matter of religious 
School instruction in the public schools. Whether 

instruction {^ this country it will ever be possible for 
Protestant, Catholic, and Jew to agree upon certain 
fundamentals seems doubtful at present. It may be 
that when we have a satisfactory scheme of moral instruc- 
tion we shall find that the matter of religious instruction 
has also been solved. In the Sunday schools we find the 
most varied conditions. The sentiment is growing, 
however, that the teacher here should be trained for the 
work, and paid if necessary; that the work should be 
given systematically and in accordance with the best 
attainable knowledge, instead of being left to the inspira- 
tion and prayer of the teacher. The apparatus and 
methods of the secular schools in the way of maps, draw- 
ing, and so on, are being introduced, but just as in the 
public schools, we find them used at times in ways that 
are, to put- it mildly, absurd. For these we must refer 



Religious Sentiment and Theological Ideas 281 

the reader to the special books given in the reference lists. 
The teaching of the special dogmas of the parents' 
sect or religion is another difficult question, and perhaps 
hardly seems open to discussion by those who 
are ardent believers. But surely we cannot 
question to-day that the youth has the right to choose 
that particular sect which he feels most suited to his own 
needs, and that to force his childish thought into the 
mold of a given set of dogmas is a dwarfing of his soul. 
There is a justification for different sects in the needs of 
different natures, though these needs probably do not 
appear until adolescence. The youth should then have 
the opportunity to know the tenets of the different sects 
within Christianity, as well as of various religions. 
Tolerance should be a fact as well as an ideal. 

REFERENCES 
Religious Ideas 

Ames, E. S. Psychology of Religious Experience. Houghton, 

Mifflin, 1910, 427 pp. 
Barnes, Earle. Theological Life of a California Child. Fed. Sent., 

1892, 442-448. 
Punishment as Seen by Children. Fed. Sent., Vol. Ill, 234-245. 
Batten, S. Z. Church as the Maker of Conscience. Am. Jour. Soc, 

1902, Vol. VII, 611-628. 
Beck, F. O. Prayer. Am. Jour. Rel. Psy., Mar. 1906, 107-121. 
Bergen, F. D. Theological Development of a Child. Arena, 

1898, Vol. XIX, 254-266. 
Brockman, F. S. Moral and Religious Life of 251 Preparatory 

School Students. Ped. Sem., Sept. 1902, 255-273. 
Brown, Daisy D. Young People's Ideas of the Value of Bible 

Study. Ped. Sem., 1910, 370-386. 
Brown, Marianna C. Sunday School Movements in America. 

Revell, 1901, 261 pp. 
Butler, N. M. Religious Instruction in Education. Ed. Rev., 

Dec. 1899, Vol. XVIII, 425-436. (Advocates longer S. S. 

sessions and paid teachers.) 



282 T h c C h i I d 

Buy, Jean de. Stages of Religious Development. Am. Jour. Rel. 

Psy., Vol. I, 7-29. 
Calkins, M. W. Religious Consciousness of Children. New 

World, 1896, 705-718. 
Chrisman, O. Religious Periods of Child Growth. Educ. Rev., 
1898, Vol. XVI, 40-48. 
Religious Ideas of a Child. C. S. M., March 1898, 516-528. 
Clapp, R. G. New Departures in Sunday School Pedagogy. Fed. 

Sem., 1909, 530-536. 
Coe, G. A. Morbid Conscience of Adolescents. Rept. III. Soc. 
for Child Study, Oct. 1898, 97-108. 
Dynamics of Personal Religion. Psy. Rev., 1899, 484-505. 
Studies in Religion. Methodist Book Concern, N. Y. $1.00. 
Education in Religion and Morals. Rcvell, 1904, 434 pp. 
Moral and Religious Education. Rel. Ed., 1908, 165-179. 
Religion of a Mature Mind. Revell, 1903, 442 pp. 
The Spiritual Life. Eaton and Maines, 1900, 279 pp. 
Collins, J. V. Religious Education of the Sunday School. Ed. 

Rev., 1909, 271-283. 
Cooper, E. H. Children's Prayers and Prayer Manuals. Fort. 

Rev., 1903, 663-671. 
Cope, Henry F. Evolution of the Sunday School. 191 1. 
The Modern Sunday School. Revell, 1907, 206 pp. 
Cressey, F. G. The Church and Young Men. Revell, 1903, 233 pp. 
Crozier, B. Problem of the Religious Consciousness. Fort. 

Rev., 1902, 1004-1018. 
Daniels, A. H. The New Life. Am. Jour. Psy., Oct. 1893, Vol. 
VI, 61-106. (Significance of puberty with primitive peoples. 
Connection between adolescence and conversion.) 
Davenport, F. M. Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals. Mac- 

millan, 1905, 323 pp. 
Dawson, Geo. E. The Child a^id His Religion. U. of Chicago 
Press, 1909, 124 pp. 
A Boy's Religion. Y. M. C. A., N. Y., 16 pp. 
Drawbridge, C. L. Religious Education and How to Improve It. 

Longmans, 1906, 222 pp. 
Dresslar, F. B. Superstition and Education. Univ. Press, Berkeley, 
1907, 239 pp. Bibliog. 
Psychology of Superstition. Am. Jour. Insanity, 1910, 213-226. 
Ellis, A. C. Sunday School Work. Ped. Sem., June 1896, 363-412. 
Ellis, G. H. Fetichism in Children. Ped. Sem., 1902, 205-220. 



Religious Sentiment and Theological Ideas 283 

Ellis, Havelock. Religion and the Child. Nineteenth Cent., 1907, 

764-775- 
Gould, H. M. Child Fetiches. Fed. Sent., 1898, 421-425. 
Hall, G. Stanley. Adolescence and Educational Problems. See 

Index. 
Hammond, E. P. Conversion of Children. Revell, 274 pp. 
Hoben, Allan. The Minister and the Boy. U. of Chicago Press, 

1912, 171 pp. 
Hodges, Geo. Training of Children in Religion. Appleton, 191 1, 

328 pp. 
Houghton, Louise S. Telling Bible Stories. Scribner's, 1905, 

286 pp. 
Hugh, D. D. Animism of Children. N. W. Mo., June and October 

1899, 450-453. 71-74- 
King, Henry C. Personal and Ideal Elements in Education. Mac- 

millan, 1904, 277 pp. 
King, Irving. Development of Religion. Macmillan, 1910, 371 pp. 

Bibliog. 
Koons, Wm. G. The Child's Religious Life. Eaton and Mains, 

1903, 270 pp. 
Leuba, J. H. Faith. Am. Jour. Rel. Psy., Vol. I, 65-82. 

Fear, Awe and Sublime in Religion. Am. Jour. Rel. Psy., 

1906, 1-23. 
Psychological Study of Religion. Macmillan, 1912, 371 pp. 
Religion . . .in the Struggle for Life. Am. Jour. Rel. Psy., 

Vol. II, 307-343- 
Psychology of Religious Phenomena. Am. Jour. Psy., Vol. 

VII, 309-385- 

Lowry, Eleanor. Concealed Neckwear of Children. School Hy- 
giene, Feb. 1913, 38-41. 

McMurry, Lida B. Children's Moral and Religious Conceptions. 
Rept. III. Soc. for Child Study, Vol. II, 23-24. 

Marshall, H. R. Religious Instinct. Mind, N. S., 1897, 40-58. 

Montgomery, C. Religious Element in Formation of Character. 
Proc. N. E. A., 1899, 121-127. 

Morse, Josiah. Pathological Aspects of Religion. 1906, 264 pp. 

Okabe, T. Experimental Study of Belief. Am. Jour. Psy., Oct. 
1910, 563-596. 

Patch, Kate W. A Child's Thought of God. Kgn. Rev., 1906, 
257-265. 



284 T h c C hi Id 

Pratt, J. B. Types of Religious Belief. Am. Jour. Ret. Psy., Mar. 
1906, 76-94. 
Psychology of Religious Belief. Macmillan, 1907, 327 pp. 
Principles of Religious Education. Longmans, 1900, 292 pp. 
(Symposium.) 

Ransom, S. W. Psychology of Prayer. Am. Jour. Rel. Psy., Vol. 
I, 129-142. 

Raymont, Thomas. Use of Bible in Education of Young. Long- 
mans, 191 1, 249 pp. 

Robinson, V. P. Conception of God of College Students. Am, 
Jour. Rel. Psy., Nov. 1908, 247-257. 

Ruediger, W. C. The Period of Mental Reconstruction. Am. 
Jour. Psy., July 1907, Vol. XVIII, 353-370. 

Schroeder, Th. Religious Element in Public Schools. Ed. Rev., 

1909, 375-389- 
Adolescence and Religions. Am. Jour. Rel. Psy., April 19 13, 
124-148. 
Seashore, Carl E. Play Impulse and Attitude in Religion. Am. 
Jour. Theol., 1910, 505-520; Assn. Sem., 1911, Vol. XIX, 

235-241- 
Starbuck, E. D. Study of Conversion. Am. Jour. Psy., Vol. VIII, 
268-308. 
Psychology of Religion. Scribner's, N. Y., 1899, 423 PP- $i-50. 
Feelings and Their Place in Religion. Am. Jour. Rel. Psy., 
Vol. I, 168-186. 
Stephens, Th. (ed.). Child and Religion. Putnam's, 1905, 311 pp. 
Stratton, G. M. Psychology of the Religious Life. Allan, Lond., 

1911, 376 pp. 

Strong, A. L. Psychology of Prayer. U. of Chicago Press, 

1909, 122 pp. Bibliog. 
Subconscious and Prayer. Am. Jour. Rel. Psy., Vol. II, 

160-167. 
Tanner, Amy E. Children's Religious Ideas. Ped. Sem., 1906, 

509-513- 
Wallis, W. D. Element of Fear in Religion. Am. Jour. Rel. Psy., 

1912, 257-304. 

Wilne, E. C. Culture of Religion. Pilgrim Press, 1912. 
Woolston, H. B. Religious Emotion. Am. Jour. Psy., 1902, Vol. 
XIII, 62-79. 
For other excellent articles see Journal and Proceedings of the 
Religious Edtication Association, from 1906 on. 



CHAPTER XII 

Conception of Good and Evil 

1. Tell the story of Jennie, and the box of paints 
(see section on Remedial Agencies in this chapter), and 
find what punishment the children would Observa- 
prjve. tions 

2. Ask the children whether it is "fair" for a teacher 
to punish the entire class for something that was done 
by a member of the class, but by which one she does 
not know. 

3. To test the sense of property rights, ask the chil- 
dren: "If you found a sum of money on the school 
doorstep, what would you do with it?" The amount 
found should be varied in the different grades. It 
should not be too large for the child to understand what 
he can buy with it, or so small that he does not think it 
necessary to seek its owner. The place where it is found 
— the school doorstep — shows that probably the owner 
can easily be found. A different set of answers would be 
obtained if it were found in the street. 

Writefs upon moral training seem to be impressed 
chiefly with the faults and vices of the children to be cor- 
rected. This is natural enough, inasmuch as the "good" 
child offers no problem for solution. On the other hand, 
in so far as we lack knowledge of the positive morality 
to which a child normally attains at various stages, we 
must also lack correct standards by which to judge him. 
Sometimes we shall demand things which he is too imma- 
ture to do, while at other times we shall be over lenient, 

19 285 



286 T h c C hi Ld 

and if by chance we give the right word at the right time, 
we shall also by chance do him irreparable harni. It is 
of course difficult to ascertain what sense of right a child 
would have who was brought up in entirely normal sur- 
roundings by entirely reasonable and loving parents, 
and perhaps such knowledge would have little practical 
value. We must try here rather to reach something of 
a norm or type by various indirect means. 

First of all, a clear distinction should be made between 
genuine goodness and what is convenient for teachers 
Goodness ^^^^ parents. Sitting still in school and 
vs. adult keeping his clothes clean are two points very 
convenience jj-^-jpoj-tant to the comfort of teacher and 
parent, but to call their opposites faults is surely a mis- 
nomer. At the best they are bad necessities for the little 
child; smaller evils to avoid greater ones, and the child's 
failure should not be counted against him, but against the 
system which makes such demands. In the long lists 
that have been made of children's faults — so much longer 
than the lists of their virtues — such items predominate. 

True faults, on the other hand, are those that point to 
defect in the child, which, if uncorrected, will lead to vice 
or crime later on; true goodness or virtue at any given 
age is the state from which will develop the personality 
devoted to moral progress and ideals. Here too we must 
admit the fluctuating estimates of goodness or virtue from 
age to age and nation to nation, even in fundamentals. 
We cannot discuss here the nature of virtue in itself, but 
will only attempt a rough estimate of childish development 
under good conditions. 

From the very beginning of the child's life his world 
falls into three rather definite classes — the world of 
objects; of other persons; of self. Other persons, per- 
haps, are at first only objects, but at a very early stage 



Conception of Good and Evil 287 

the mother, at least, assumes a specific character, and if 
there is a genuine social instinct persons are from the 
beginning interesting in a dififerent way from objects. 
We have also noted that from the very beginning the 
child reacts in rather definite ways to certain classes of 
objects — reaching for the pleasure-giving and avoiding 
the pain-giving in their various fomis and at their different 
levels of complexity. Some moralists may dispute that 
this is the genu of moraHty, but whether or not it is, it is 
assuredly the point of attack for the mother who wishes 
to teach her child. 

For the baby, as we have seen, the great goods of life 
are food, warmth, sleep, and opportunity for free exercise 
of his senses. His great interests are in The baby's 
securing these, and because they come to goods 
him in connection with persons, all of them are bound up 
with social reactions. Is there anything moral in his at- 
titude? Certainly very little in the ordinary sense of the 
term. It is self-evident that a baby can know nothing of 
the right and the wrong attitudes toward self, others, and 
the objective world. The most that it can know is, after 
a little, that this act brings it pain and that pleasure, 
and (including here also deprivation of goods, approval 
or disapproval, and so on, as well as mere physical pain 
and pleasure) the best that it can do is to avoid the one 
and secure the other. 

The inborn factor of morality is normality. The baby 
bom normal in body and mind and developing normally 
has every opportunity to become normal Normality 
morally. For such a baby, the basis of and 
morality is the forming of good physical "lorality 
habits, and at the beginning this rests entirely with the 
mother. By two or three weeks after birth some habits 
have become grafted on instincts so that the child feeds. 



288 T h e Child 

sleeps, and lies in ways that tend toward health or the 
opposite, and toward self-control or the opposite. Any 
slight deviation from health which makes him fretful 
and leads to more attention than he gets ordinarily is the 
vantage ground for forming wrong associations. Simi- 
larly, any cause whatever which leads to irregularity in 
his habits — visitors, or a trip from home — may end in 
indulgence and over-assertion. If, on the other hand, 
the mother lays down wise habits and customs in all 
departments of the baby's life, they become pleasant, 
both in themselves and on account of the social approval 
constantly associated with them, and the child very soon 
carries them on automatically and, later, imitatively. In 
this early stage the "good" child is only the unconscious 
reflection of the good mother; and the "bad" child the 
reflection of the bad mother. 

When he is old enough to understand gestures and 
inflections of approval or disapproval, the conflict be- 
tween his social nature and various instincts 
Obedience i • j u ^ j 

begms, and may become very acute and 

difficult to solve if the mother is unwise. Here obedience 
may and indeed should begin, but, on the other hand, the 
mother should demand only what is within the child's 
power at the time the demand is made. His virtue de- 
pends to a large degree upon his health, hunger, fatigue, 
or other condition, as well as upon his understanding 
what she wants and upon his control of his body. No 
one would require a year-old child to thread a needle, but 
we ask other things just as impossible. With the 
child who understands his mother's wishes, we may say 
perhaps, that virtue consists in his effort to carry them 
out, that is, in the attitude of obedience. She may be 
teaching him habits that later on will be classed as faults, 
— impertinence, slapping — to say nothing of bad habits 



Conception of Good and Evil 289 

of eating and sleeping, but in doing what she wants he is 
following the highest good he knows. If what she wants 
could but be the same as what the progress of humanity 
needs, the child would indeed be blessed. 

As the child gets older, as he understands language and 
sees other children and other people, as his desires develop 
and he becomes more able to gratify them if left to himself, 
obedience becomes harder and the problem of exacting 
it greater. Some moralists would insist that a child 
should obey without question; others would explain 
everything and demand only obedience to reason. In all 
probability the normal child develops from one to the 
other, and in all the stages between babyhood and ma- 
turity command and explanation must be judiciously 
mingled. If parents themselves be reasonable and kind, 
children usually obey. The importance of obedience as 
laying the basis of respect for law can hardly be over- 
estimated, but we must never forget on the other hand, 
that forced obedience to unjust law breeds a sense of 
injustice and a desire for revenge that go far toward 
making criminals. 

The development of the sense of law is shown in the 
penalties children would attach at different ages to a 
wrong act. At seven years 89 per cent would punish 
regardless of the legal penalties; at twelve 29 per cent, 
and at sixteen 74 per cent. 

Conscience and the sense of honor, however, seem to 

remain relatively undeveloped before puberty. The 

child's morality at all ages before puberty, 

Oonscicncc 
therefore, is motivated from the outside 

more than it is from the inside; is a matter of custom 

rather than of ideals. The best preparation for the 

inwardizing of morality is, therefore, as has already 

been said so many times, to train him in good habits 



290 The Child 

in every possible direction. Hall goes so far as to 
assert that it is wrong to put too much responsibility 
upon children for their own acts. They are at this 
stage docile. They are disciples, not masters. He be- 
lieves that they both love and respect most the one who 
demands obedience, and that under most circumstances 
they would rather obey than order their own lives. 

In the chapter on Imagination we have already shown 
how a child may invent a lie in order to escape from 
Attitude ^^ unpleasant situation, just as he invents 

toward means of obtaining bread and jam. There 

the truth -^ ^^ ^j^-g ^^ g^.^^ ^^ perception of the moral 

wrong, but only the instinctive shrinking from pain. 
To cure the child, therefore, we must bring about two 
things: (i) Make him brave enough to take the conse- 
quences of any act of his; and (2) make him realize the 
self-contradiction and doubleness involved in a lie. Some- 
times it is said that a child should never be punished when 
he confesses any wrongdoing. Such a course must breed 
in a child a belief that there is no natural penalty for 
wrong, and must end in more or less contempt of the law 
that can constantly be overridden if only the transgression 
is admitted. Rather, so high a fearlessness and honor 
should be cultivated that a child who has done wrong 
shall present himself for punishment. 

Plato says somewhere that if man did but know his 
highest good, he who had broken the law would hasten 
to the judge for condemnation and punishment as a 
sick man goes to his physician for medicine. So, in all 
our dealings with a child, even if pain be needful, every 
act and word should declare to him that our only purpose 
is to heal his moral sickness, and to increase his moral 
health. We all know that children can be very brave 
under the physical pain inflicted by a physician if they 



Conception of Good and Evil 291 

understand the necessity for it. Surely they will be no 
less brave under the pain resulting from their wrongdoing, 
if there also they see the need of it. Lies offer little 
temptation to a child who holds this attitude toward 
pain. But most of us are too cowardly ourselves to 
inculcate true courage in our children. We ourselves 
prevaricate and falsify under slight temptation, and we 
can expect nothing else from our children. 

In all probability there is at first no intention of inflict- 
ing pain in bullying and fighting. Burk believes that 
they are survivals of acts useful to an earlier Teasine 

civilization. That is, they are instinctive, bullying, 

and have no consciously defined purpose cruelty 
behind them. Probably curiosity to see how the victim 
will act also enters in, as it does in the case of many 
apparently cruel acts. In such cases there is a double 
remedy. First, the child's sympathy should be aroused 
for the victim by leading him to imagine himself in the 
other's place, or, if he cannot imagine it, by actually 
putting him there. A little bullying and teasing of the 
bully, accompanied by remarks to show that the pain he 
suffers now is only the pain he himself has inflicted on 
others, will often cure him. In the second place, replace 
the bullying, teasing, and cruelty by other acts, if possible 
by kind acts, toward the victim; but if that is not pos- 
sible, by constant occupation in work and games where 
there is no opportunity to indulge this propensity. As 
to fighting, it is doubtful whether a fair fight leaves any 
bad moral effects, and does not rather square up grievances 
in the most satisfactory way to the persons concerned. 
There are, of course, boys who will brood over a defeat in 
a fight and will be induced by it to use underhand means 
the next time, but such a disposition is sure to come out 
in other directions also, and must be combated all along 



292 The Child 

the line. The only way of knowing whether a boy has 
been benefited by a fight is to see how he feels toward 
his opponent. The parent's action can be safely guided 
by that. 

The moral ideas of children are concerned chiefly with 
concrete acts. A good girl or boy is usually one who 
The good minds the mother. At a great distance 
and the bad after obedience comes truthfulness, 29 per 
cent as against 54 per cent. Is it not a sad commentary 
upon us, that we should impress obedience upon children 
so much more dihgcntly than truthfulness? 

There is an English proverb that "possession is nine 
points of the law," and another that "finders are keepers." 
Attitude Little children tend instinctively to act upon 

toward these proverbs. The one who first gets a 

possession thing has the right to it against all others; 
and, with the youngest children, this feeling of ownership 
sets aside any previous ownership. The little child docs 
not make the distinction of thine and mine. "Mine" is 
whatever he wants, and when he does not want it, he 
may or may not feel a sense of ownership. With kinder- 
garten children the plea that they "had it first" seems 
to override the argument "It's my turn," especially 
if the turn is something left over from the day before. 
There is a tendency to start each day with a new account 
of rights. 

The property sense is relatively undeveloped, therefore, 
and remains so for a long time. Among juvenile offenses, 
offenses against property and stealing food lead all 
others. It is very difficult for a boy to feel that he has 
no right to a few apples, or that he may not enjoy himself 
in a private park or cross a lawn on his way to school. 
Property of his own does much to develop this sense, and 
it is desirable that within certain limits children shall have 



Conception of Good and Evil 293 

their own toys, places to put things, and so on. But we 
must also avoid making a child selfish and over-indivi- 
dualistic. 

Children's ideas of justice reflect their feeling that the 
right is the customary. Unusual punishments are more 

likely to be resented than more severe r ^^ 

■' Justice 

familiar ones. Feeling plays a large part, 
according to Kline's returns from 2,384 eight-to-eighteen- 
year-old children. 

Miss Schallenberger told two thousand children from 
six to sixteen years old this story: "One afternoon, 
six-year-old Jennie's mother went out to call, leaving 
Jennie playing with her box of paints. After a while 
Jennie went into the parlor, and saw there some nice new 
chairs. She exclaimed, 'Oh, I will paint all these chairs, 
and mamma will be so pleased ! ' When her mamma came 
home she found her chairs all spoiled. If you had been 
her mamma, what would you have done to Jennie?" 

The punishments assigned fell into three classes. 

1. The principle of reprisal. Jennie gave her mother 
pain, and so she must suffer pain. The little children 
advocated this far more than the older ones, for they 
thought only of the act, not of the motive. At six only 
23 children speak of Jennie's ignorance; at twelve, 322, 
and at sixteen, 654. So, also, none of the six-year-olds 
would tell Jennie why she was wrong; at twelve, 181 do, 
and at sixteen, 751. The specific punishment assigned 
is usually a whipping, but this lessens from 1,102 out of 
2,000 at six, to 763 at eleven, and 185 at sixteen. 

2. Prevention by fear or terror. None of the six-year- 
olds would threaten; 39 at twelve and 85 at fifteen would. 
None of the six-year-olds would make her promise not 
to do it again; 15 at twelve and 35 at fifteen would. 
Notice how very small this class is, both as to threats and 



294 The Child 

promises; and yet there are no more common methods 
than these two in deahng with children. 

3. Reform. As we have already said, explanation of 
why Jennie's act was wrong increases steadily up to 
the age of sixteen. The idea of reform becomes more 
prominent, but even at sixteen it is not as prominent 
as the idea of revenge is at six. The older children are 
more merciful than the younger. 

Now consider in connection with this the reminiscences 
by young people between seventeen and twenty-one years 
old, given by Street, of punishments that did good or 
harm. 

Under punishments that did good we find the follow- 
ing list: Sixteen were helped by whippings, of which 
Just or ^^^^y speak with gratitude; eleven by with- 

unjust pun- drawal of some privilege; six by talks; five 
ishments ^y \jQ[iig \q[^ alone a time; four by scolding. 

Harm was done to eight by whippings; to eight by 
undeserved punishments; to four by sarcasm; to four 
by talks ; to three by forced apologies ; to two by public 
punishments. 

These numbers are small, and must be supplemented 
by Barnes, who collected two thousand papers describing 
just and unjust punishments, from children between seven 
and sixteen years old. Two and a half per cent of these 
two thousand children cannot recall any just punishment 
that they have received, but we are left ignorant of their 
character and surroundings; 25 per cent cannot recall an 
unjust punishment; 42 per cent of those who think punish- 
ment just, can give no reason, and 12 per cent think that 
it does them good, although they do not see how. In such 
cases, there seems to be an unquestioning acceptance of 
custom. Where reasons are given, the most common idea 
is that of atonement, the expiation of an offense by pain. 



Conception of Good and Evil 295 

Of those who felt some one punishment unjust, 41 
per cent gave as a reason that they were innocent of 
the offense; 27 per cent that they could not help it, 
forgot, did not know better, did not intend to, etc.; 19 
per cent admitted the offense, but thought the punish- 
ment too severe, due to prejudice, etc.; 11 per cent 
maintained that the act for which they were punished 
was right, and 79 per cent threw all responsibility on 
the one who punished them. Injustice is, on the whole, 
charged about equally against parents and teachers, but 
as children grow older they talk less about home matters. 

The ideas of what punishments are just and what are 
unjust are very vague, even among the older children. 
The forms about which opinions commonly differ are : scold- 
ing, confinement, and whipping. Six hundred and eighty- 
one whippings are called just, as against 493 unjust. 

Finally, the results of investigations to detemiine 
whether children admit the justice of making the inno- 
cent suffer with and for the guilty are rather surprising. 
This case was presented to nearly two thousand children 
from seven to sixteen years old: "Some children in a 
class were bad, but the teacher could not find out who 
they were, and so she kept the whole class after school. 
Was she just?" Out of these 1,914 children or 82 per cent 
considered her justified, and the percentage was nearly 
the same for all ages. 

The reasons given for this decision were various. 
Forty-nine per cent claimed that it was just because the 
class would not tell on the guilty ones, evidently believing 
that the class as a whole is at least partly responsible 
for the good behavior of each member. Sixteen per cent 
said that the class was bad; 10 per cent, that the teacher 
did not know the guilty ones and must punish some one; 
5 per cent, that it was a sure way of punishing the 



2g6 7^ he Child 

offenders, and 4 per cent that it would prevent a repeti- 
tion of the offense. The feeHng that the class should 
cooperate with the teacher in keeping order increases to 
over 50 per cent after the age of ten. 

How then, do children feel toward punishments? 

1 . Little children are much more prone than older ones 

to consider only the act, and not the motive; 
to punish for reprisal; to inflict physical 
pain; to give no reasons. 

2. At no age do children consider threats and promises 
of much importance. 

3. Practically all children accept most punishments as 
just; but many consider some one or a few unjust. 

4. What is just is very vague, and is probably almost 
the same as what is customary, especially with the 
younger children. Under unjust punishments, for in- 
stance, violation of custom, either by punishing the 
innocent or helpless child, or by exacting an unusually 
severe penalty, covers nearly all the cases. 

5. The most common punishment is whipping or 
spanking. Among children of all ages, 681 whippings 
were considered just, as against 493 unjust. As far as 
these records go, children do not seem to feel that there 
is any greater indignity in a whipping than in any other 
form of punishment. 

6. Most children admit the justice, though on various 
grounds, of punishing a class for the misbehavior of 
some unknown member. 

The standards worked out in daily life among boys and 
girls eleven to fifteen years old are rather rough and 
ready and vary considerably from child to 
child. In my own returns from 615 children 
it appeared that 75 per cent would not tell on a play- 
mate; 71 per cent would not cheat in a game; 71 per 



Conception of Good and Evil 297 

cent would return a lost article if they knew and did 
not like the owner, while 92 per cent would do it if 
they liked him; 45 per cent of the boys and 18 per 
cent of the girls would put bad money in a slot 
machine; 52 per cent of the boys and 5 per cent of the 
girls would pass it; 23 per cent of the boys and 12 
per cent of the girls admitted that they would cheat in 
a game. 

Among college girls the standards also are rather 
different from those of the developed and sensitive con- 
science. According to returns from 440 girls in various 
colleges, 40 per cent would keep their street-car fare if 
it were not collected; 50 per cent would run the risk of 
being called on if unprepared in a lesson, and if partly 
prepared, 67 per cent would "bluff"; 50 per cent would 
exaggerate to give zest to a story; 65 per cent would 
tell a white lie to save people's feelings; 37 per cent 
would tell a credulous girl outlandish stories, and 57 per 
cent would allow a person to think too well of them. 
In the matter of examinations, under the honor system, 
69 per cent would avoid a girl known to cheat so that 
they would not have to report her; 52 per cent would 
report her if necessary; 27 per cent would use a point 
seen accidentally on another's paper. In the daily 
lesson work, 21 per cent would use a "pony." In a 
considerable number of cases love and sympathy are felt 
to be of more value than tnith, and virtue comes more 
easily in relation to people liked than to those disliked. 
The response of girls at this age to being put on their 
honor is both ready and complete, and the moral sense 
is in a nascent stage that makes them very open to 
suggestion. 

In general, then, we cannot expect from children or 
even from adolescents a highly developed sense of right 



2g8 The Child 

and wrong. The unconscious lack of discrimination 
between the good and the customary, and still more be- 
tween the evil and the violated custom, is very evident 
and very suggestive to one who gets on familiar terms 
with children. The responsibility for establishing right 
customs and for leading from them up to right thinking 
and right ideals must rest upon the parent and teacher, 
and here loving authority is the chief agency for securing 
the desired results. 

Turning now to the other side, we find a long list of 
faults for which children receive punishments, made by 
Sears on a thousand children, as follows: For 
disorder, 17 per cent; disobedience, 16 per 
cent; carelessness, 13 per cent; running away, 12 
per cent; quarreling, 10 per cent; tardiness, 7 per cent; 
rudeness, 6 per cent; fighting, 5 per cent; lying, 4 per cent; 
stealing, i per cent. He gives a long list of punishable 
offenses, for which, however, the percentages are very small 
— malice, swearing, obscenity, bullying, lying, cheating, 
untidiness, insolence, noisiness, injury to books, property, 
etc. In Triplett's census of faults named by teachers 
inattention led all; then come defects of sense and 
speech, carelessness, indifference, lack of honor and of 
self-restraint, etc. In the census given by parents, willful- 
ness and obstinacy led, then teasing, quarreling, dislike of 
application and effort, etc. The children of these parents 
and teachers, on the other hand, put fighting, bullying, 
and teasing first; then stealing, bad manners, lying, dis- 
obedience, truancy, cruelty to animals, etc. The contrast 
is striking, and should surely make us question the rea- 
sonableness of our standards of good and bad children. 

When we consider juvenile crime — offenses punishable 
by law — we find that Morrison estimates that of children 
under fourteen who are sent to corrective institutions, 



Conception of Good and Evi 299 

more than half go for such offenses as truancy, begging, 
incorrigibility, and refractory disposition, that is, for 
offenses with a strong element of vagrancy; Juvenile 

while of children from fourteen to sixteen crime 

years of age hardly one tenth go for such offenses, but 
with them theft leads, with offenses against property. 
From sixteen to twenty-one, crimes against persons lead, 
and serious offenses, such as burglary and house and 
shop breaking, are four times as common as below sixteen. 
When we turn from this brief consideration of the 
virtues, faults, and crimes of children to the question of 
how to secure the former and prevent or Moral re- 
cure the latter, we find that perhaps the form first 
most important problem, as it is assuredly a u s 
the first, is that we should take ourselves in hand. Not 
only should our own lives exemplify the goodness that 
we demand of children, but we should have such knowl- 
edge of child nature as to realize that they are less 
developed morally, as they are intellectually and phys- 
ically. These are trite sayings, but they need reiteration 
in view of the numerous schemes for formal instruction, 
the special devices, and so on, which, it is often tacitly 
assumed, will supersede the fundamental method of daily 
example and training. These schemes are legion, and 
would need volumes for their elucidation. Let it be said 
that undoubtedly each has done good under certain con- 
ditions, and for certain types of children, but that no one 
can possibly cover' the whole field. Each will fail in 
certain directions, under certain conditions, with certain 
children, and the most important task of those in charge 
of the young will be the same in the future as in the 
past — namely, to know the complexity of each child's 
moral nature and to apply all sorts of stimuli and aids, 
from lowest to highest, as seems best in each individual 



300 The Child 

case. Rarely is a bad child bad from any one cause. 
Mind and body, instinct and training, habits and desires, 
are interwoven so that a moral stimulus at almost any 
one of these points will affect all the others to some 
degree, while defect at any one point inevitably modifies 
the rest. Let us consider some of these factors that 
irradiate in all directions, and first among them good 
health and good physical conditions generally. 

Henry Ward Beecher once said, wittily and wisely, 
that if he could but be born right the first time he would 
Physical be willing to take his chances on the Second 

conditions Birth. Modem Christianity marks its sense 
of the relation between the physical and moral by send- 
ing medical missionaries to the heathen and visiting 
nurses to the poor of the slums. It has been abundantly 
proved that the moral tone is somewhat lowered by 
fatigue and that the habitual criminal usually has some 
bodily defects. The first thing necessary, therefore, for 
a healthy, moral nature is a healthy body. The moral 
education of a child begins even before the marriage of 
his parents, in their cultivation of right habits of living. 

Everything that contributes toward making the child 
well-bom physically, and toward keeping him so, is a 
factor in his moral education. Here, and here alone, is 
the justification for the expenditure of the best thought 
and energy upon the science of hygiene, including cook- 
ing. Such matters as the healthiest food for a meal and 
the healthiest way of cooking it, the clothing, and the 
ventilation of the house, assume from this standpoint the 
aspect of important moral duties. The child who is born 
healthy and kept healthy by good food, good air, and 
good clothing has the basis of a sound morality. 

Hall says that a good table is one of the best pre- 
ventives of stealing, and we know that playground and 



Conception of Good and Evil 301 

recreation centers have lessened juvenile crime by giving 
opportunities for boys and girls to gratify their natural 
instincts without coming into conflict with the law. 

Our treatment of juvenile offenders reflects this point 
of view. More and more it is understood that a large 
proportion of boy and girl criminals are either feeble- 
minded or defective in some way, or else are the victims 
of poverty or vicious home conditions. If the mother 
goes out to work there is more chance of the children 
coming into the juvenile court. If the children are 
poorly fed they naturally pilfer food as they get the 
chance, and the child who steals food easily develops 
into the youth who steals money and breaks into houses 
or stores. Such children can usually be reformed by 
supplying the physical needs and the proper supervision, 
but the defective child also needs some medical attention 
which will reform the defects, or else he is so defective 
in brain development that he cannot with our present 
knowledge be cured. We have already referred to moral 
aberrations due to the effects of adenoids, or even to 
bad teeth, and elsewhere have briefly discussed the 
"moral degenerate." 

After the utmost has been done for the physical health 
of the child, the establishing of hygienic habits both of 
body and of mind comes next. Hygienic habits of eat- 
ing, sleeping, bathing, dressing, may and should be so 
automatic that they are rarely in the child's conscious- 
ness, and the same should be the case in all the matters 
of daily social intercourse. 

The struggle between right and wrong occurs in most 
of us because our feelings are opposed to our duty or 
our reason, and it could be in large part transferred 
to a wider sphere if we had been properly trained in small 
matters. 



302 T Ji c Child 

It is pitiable to find a child of ten or eleven years 
constantly disciplined for slight discourtesies, for indis- 
Good criminate eating at meals and between meals, 

breeding ^nd for cruelty to weak things. His moral 
struggles at this age should come in the resistance of 
temptation to active wrongdoing. Such a condition is 
usually the fault of the parent, who neglected these mat- 
ters when the child was little. From the very beginning 
of life, only courteous tones, gestures, and acts should sur- 
round the child, and be expected of him, as a matter of 
course. Good breeding, which includes all the lesser moral- 
ities, should be so habitual as to be unconscious. Then 
a child can turn his attention entirely to the more serious 
moral questions that each of us must some time decide. 

In the solution of these, however, we pass from the 
realm of habit and custom to that of ideals and volition. 

We have already seen how dependent chil- 

Friendship j . -j i i.i • • 4. j 

dren s ideals are upon their environment, and 

so in the decision of these questions a child's greatest 

safeguard, especially between ten and eighteen years of 

age, lies in a close friendship with some older person, — ■ 

parent, teacher, or friend. Such a friendship brings 

about naturally the free discussion of serious moral 

problems and allows a child to receive with an open 

mind the opinions of his elders. Both for the prevention 

and the correction of evil tendencies such a relation is 

of the greatest value. Parents should, therefore, make 

every effort to retain the confidence of their children, and 

teachers should consider the securing of that confidence 

as important as their class teachings. 

Here, also, there is much difference of opinion as to the 

value of discussing moral questions. More than a few 

high-school teachers assert that talking does only harm, 

because it hardens children and makes them hypocrites. 



Conception of Good and Evil 303 

On the other hand, we have some direct testimony from 
boys showing that they were greatly helped at a critical 
time by a friendly talk. 

It is possible here, as in everything else, to approach a 
child in such a way that a discussion will only harden him, 
but surely we cannot assert that a kindly, fair, and reason- 
able presentation of a moral question, with opportunity on 
the child's part for reasonable objections, will either harden 
him or make him hypocritical. He must have had sad 
experiences with other adults if this is the effect upon him. 

The writer believes, on the other hand, that there is 
serious danger in leaving a child to form his own opin- 
ions of right and wrong. He has not the ability to 
generalize with certainty, or the experience upon which 
to base a correct judgment, and it is our duty to supple- 
ment his defects without forcing our opinions down his 
throat. This teaching is not best done by formal instruc- 
tion, but in the evening or Sunday talks that every wise 
mother has with her children. At such a time, specific 
examples — this time when John got angry, and that one 
when Mary told the fib — will come up of themselves, 
and can be seen in their true light by the children. Such 
talks show the children where they must learn self- 
control, and make them feel that all of the family are 
helping them. 

The value and the method of formal moral instruction 
in school is a much disputed question. France has a 
highly developed system in all her public School 
schools, but it has not yet been established instruction 
long enough for its virtues and defects to be beyond 
question. They would surely not appear distinctly until 
the second generation had been trained, and all the 
feeling roused by the separation of church from state 
had died out. We can hardly doubt, however, that fonnal 



304 The Child 

instruction must to some degree raise the ideals of children 
and create at least something of an esprit de corps in 
goodness, especially if there is anything in the nature of 
public approval of good or heroic acts by individual 
children. The dangers in such a method are of at least 
two kinds. One is that parents and teachers will rest 
satisfied with mere word instruction, and will give up 
actual training. The other is that the children will be 
made too self-conscious, and that the natural tendency to 
do good for the sake of approval will become over strong. 
Again, instruction on the details of morality is likely to 
become platitudinous if not absurd, and thus lead to 
depreciation of it by the children. 

Instruction, however, that puts before the children 
heroic examples suited to their years, that inspires them 
with enthusiasm and love of these heroes, 
whether they are obtained from biography 
and literature, the theater or moving picture, or the 
daily paper, is of great value. All these means, it must be 
understood, are subsidiary to the great end of developing 
high ideals and noble ambitions in the child by precept 
and example. A morality that is merely habitual is 
better than none, but is only the basis of a morality that 
is shaped and modeled by the power of a living, glorious 
devotion to the highest aims. The parent or the teacher 
who can by any means inspire a child with a love of the 
good, the beautiful, and the true, with the ability to see 
them in the lives about him, and with a willingness to 
sacrifice himself for the sake of them has done the utmost. 

The discussions of the best methods of reforming a 
bad child differ as much as do those on prevention. 
Certainly we cannot agree with those who seem to believe 
that every error leaves a permanent stain on character. 
On the other hand, the doctrine that a child must be 



Conception of Good and Evil 305 

vaccinated with badness in order to become immune to 
its more severe forms, seems a dubious pedagogical 
position. There is of course an element of attractiveness 
in the unknown and forbidden, and certain crudities 
natural to children are naturally outgrown, as we have 
said so many times. It is also true that strength is 
gained by overcoming temptations not too great, and 
no wise guardian would isolate a child in order that he 
might never fall. Victory often comes in its best sense 
after defeat, and sympathy and love for sinners can only 
be felt by those who know their temptations. Average — 
shall we say normal? — ^ humanity stumbles more or less 
in its upward path, and perhaps one of the best lessons a 
child learns is that he will fait and then if he does not get 
up he will be forced up in the same path as before. As 
he gets praise, reward, and social approval in various 
forms when he does well, punishment and condemnation 
should come when he does ill, as soon as we are sure 
that his failure is due to remediable defect in his ideals 
or his will. The most important single factor here is 
that the punishment shall be as inevitable as natural law. 
Then it can be relatively slight and still work. 

I. Punishment as a Logical Result. Spencer formu- 
lated the doctrine that the reasonable punishment of a 
wrong act is its own logical result, and that the pimish- 
ment given by parents or teachers should simulate this 
natural one as far as possible. The theory is excellent as 
far as it goes, but there are many wrong acts in which the 
consequences are so far removed that the child cannot 
of himself see the connection ; and there are others where 
the effect for the time being is slight, and not painful; 
and there are still others in which deformity or death 
wotild result. As an example of the first we may take 
the habit of lunching three or four times between meals; 



3o6 The Child 

of the third, careless playing with a sharp knife. We 
cannot, in any such cases, leave the child to learn by the 
results, and so we supplement Nature by the second 
method — moral suasion. 

Moral suasion as a means of prevention or instruction 
we have seen to be. of great importance. When the 
offense has already been committed it takes 
*^° '°^ a more strenuous form, putting vividly be- 
fore the child what he has done and its effects upon his 
own character and upon the opinion that people hold of 
him. Hall gives a very concrete presentation of the 
value of a good scolding in bringing home to a careless 
child his fault, provided that the scolding docs not degen- 
erate into mere nagging and whining. The authoritative 
character of the one who scolds, and his fundamental 
reasonableness, make his condemnation of the child 
dreadful, esiDccially if it is given with some anger, as 
Hall thinlcs it should be. Hall is distinctly opposed to 
the theory that we should never punish in anger. Rather, 
he thinks, we should be sure that our anger is righteous, 
and use it for an additional stimulus to the offender. 

If the various agencies for prevention, instruction, 
persuasion, disapproval, and scolding, and perhaps 
deprivation of various personal and social 
privileges, do not effect a reform, fear of 
physical pain seems the only resource. We may admit 
that the failure of other means points to defect either in 
the child or in ourselves,- but we should also remember 
that physical pain has been a great educator in the 
history of humanity, and that in such foniis as fighting 
and dueling it is still the way in which many even civilized 
people punish offenses. The evidence already quoted 
from children shows that the younger ones have no such 
sense of personal injury when they are whipped as some 



C n c e p t i Ji of Good and Evil 307 

older people have, and probably we should find great 
variations even among adults. Certainly among some 
classes of our population husbands beat their wives and 
wives slap their husbands without more than rippling the 
surface of the sea of matrimony. 

Such an appeal to physical pain is, of course, a low- 
grade stimulus, and may become brutalizing if too frequent 
and too severe. On the other hand, if administered as a last 
resort and made the basis of an appeal to the child's imag- 
ination in the future, it may arouse a fear that will be 
the beginning both of moral wisdom and of self-control. 
Before puberty it is not likely to arouse any lasting anger 
in a child, unless the conditions are very exceptional. 

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3o8 The Child 

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Chicago, 191 1, 287 pp. 
Sears, C. H. Home and School Punishments. Fed. Sem., 1899, 

159-187. 
Sharp, F. C. Aims of Moral Education. Int. Jour. Ethics, 1899, 

Vol. IX, 214-228. 
Sharp and Newman. Moral Education for High Schools. Rel. 

Ed., Feb. 1913, 653-680. 
Sheldon, Winthrop D. Programme of Ethical Teaching in our 

Schools. Ed., 1907, 262-270; 353-370. Bibliog. 
Sisson, E. O. Can Virtue be Taught? Ed. Rev., 191 1, 261-279. 
Sisson, Genevra. Who Has the Best Right? Barnes's Studies 

in Ed., 259-263. U. of Chicago Press, Chicago. 
Smith, Theodate L. Obstinacy and Obedience. Fed. Sem., 1905,27-54. 
Spiller, Gustav. Moral Instruction . . . in Schools of Austria, 

Belgium, etc. Lond., 1909, 362 pp. 
Stearns.A.E. Moral Standards in Schools. £d.. No. 32, 1912,529-538. 
Stewart, A. H. American Bad Boys in the Making. N. Y., 1912, 

241 pp. 



312 T h e C hil d 

Street, I. R. Study in Moral Education. Fed. Sent., Vol. IV, 5-40. 
Tanner, Amy E. Children's Ideas of Honor. Fed. Sent., Dec. 

1906, 509-511- 
College Woman's Code of Honor. Fed. Sem., Mar. 1906, 104-1 17. 
Elevation of the College Woman's Ideal. Int. Jour. Ethics, 

Apr. 1907, 361-370. 
Taylor, C. K. Moral Education of School Children. Printed for 

the author. Phila., 1913, 77 pp. $0.75. 
Thompson, H. M. Moral Instruction in Schools. Int. Jour. 

Ethics, 1904, Vol. XIV, 400-418; Vol. XV, 28-47. 
Thurston, Henry W. Social Significance of Juvenile Court. Sch. 

Rev., 1906, 415-424. 
Trask, Mary G. What is a Good Child? Kgn. Rev., 1901, Vol. 

XII, 1-6, 126-32. 
Travis, Thomas. The Young Malefactor. Crowell, 1908, 243 pp. 
Triplett, Norman. Faults of Children. Fed. Sem., 1903, Vol. X, 

200-238. 
Ueda, Tadaichi. Psychology of Justice. Fed. Sem., Sept. 1912, 

297-349- Bibliog. 
Urwick, H. M. "If You Found a Shilling?" Faid., 1901, Vol. 

Ill, 18-22. 
Van Liew, C. C. Mental and Moral Development of the Kinder- 
garten Child. Froc. N. E. A., 1899, 551-559. 
Vaughn, S. J. Moral Significance of Vocational Motive. Ed., 

June 19 1 3, 591-603. 
Vincent, Geo. E. Group Morality of Children. Kgn. Mag., Vol. 

XV, 1903, 559-565- 

Votaw, Clyde W. Curriculum for Moral and Religious Education 

of Boys and Young Men. Assn. Sem., 1908, 203-220. 
Wei ton, J., and Blandford, F. G. Moral Training. Clive, Lond., 

1909, 262 pp. 
Wiggin, Kate D. Rights of Children. Scribne/s Mag., Vol. XII, 

242. Also in book form as Children's Rights. Houghton, 

Mifflin, Boston. $1.00. 
Wilson, Albert. Education, Fersonality and Crime. Greening, 

Lond., 1908, 296 pp. 
Winterburn, Florence Hall. Nursery Ethics. Baker, N. Y. $1.00. 
WyckofT, Adelaide E. Children's Ideals. Fed. Sem., 1901, Vol. 

VIII, 482-494. 
The Journal and Froceedings of the Religious Education Asso- 
ciation have numerous articles on moral training. 



CHAPTER XIII 

Feelings and Emotions 

1. Trace in some one child the growth of fear, anger, 
and love. Note what called out the first expression in 
each case, and how the range of objects Observa- 
widens. Did the child express affection *io^s 
before he was taught the kiss or the loving pat? Was 
he imitating? 

2. Ask children of what they are most afraid, and 
why. 

3. Obtain from adults reminiscences of the persons 
whom, as children, they loved best. 

(i) At what age did the love exist? 

(2) What relation did the person hold to you? How 
well did you know the person? Did you see the 
person daily or hourly? Was mystery an element 
in the love? 

(3) Why did you love the person? On account of 
substantial services, hke feeding and clothing 
you? Or for some personal quality? Or because 
of kisses and caresses for you? Or for gifts — 
candy, picture books, etc.? (It would hardly 
be possible to question children themselves, as 
the knowledge that their papers were to be read 
by the teacher would prevent a free expression 
of feeling.) 

The fundamental springs of action are pleasure and 
pain, and in all probabiHty they exist even in forms of 
life that have no nervous system. Mere sensory pleasures 

313 



314 The Child 

and pains in their simplest forms involve no memory 
but very soon they become complicated by past expe- 
riences and we find the beginning of fear and hope. 
Thence up the scale, both intellectual and emotional 
associations build up the many forms of emotion for 
which language is so inadequate. 

The feeling aspect of consciousness has been relatively 
little studied save by G. Stanley Hall and his pupils, and 
for the most part our account must therefore follow their 
work with occasional references to morbid phenomena. 

Even before birth it is probable that a child feels 
pains and pleasures of touch, from pressures and jars, 
First pains ^^^ these are necessarily vague. After birth, 
and for a long time, the most vivid feelings 

pleasures ^^.^ those connected with himger and its 
satisfaction, with warmth and cold, and with touch. 
Under this last head come the baby's delight in being 
relieved from the confinement of clothing, the comfortable 
feeling of water in the bath, and the pleasure of being 
rubbed dry and wann. Prcyer and Compayre agree 
that in the first months of life the greatest pleasure is the 
negative one of getting rid of pain. In the course of a 
month, moderately bright lights and slowly moving 
objects cause pleasure, and by the second month bright 
colors and sweet sounds are sources of delight. Between 
the fourth and sixth months, the pleasure of grasping 
things and the delight of being able to do things, such 
as tearing or crumpling paper, ringing the bell, and so on, 
come into prominence. 

The appearance of the first smile that indicates pleasure 
is the occasion of much rejoicing. Of course, a baby 
may make grimaces that look like smiles very early, 
either accidentally or as the reflex of some one else's ex- 
pression, but the first smile of delight, Darwin says, did 



F e din gs and Emoti on s 315 

not appear in his son until the forty-fifth day. The smile 
is usually accompanied, especially as the child gets a little 
older, by crowing and kicking, and movements of the arms. 
Perez says that the little baby is easily fatigued by any 
unusual experience, whether pleasurable or painful, and 
should not be constantly amused by over-fond mothers. 

If he is well, the baby is usually content to lie in his 
cradle and take in from it the sights and sounds about 
him, dropping off to sleep at intervals to recover from 
the pressure of the novel world. He gets all the amuse- 
ment that his nervous system can stand in this way. 

In the history of the race, however, there is much to 
indicate that pain in one form or another has been more 
prominent than pleasure, and fear more potent than hope. 
Pain calls out stronger reactions than pleasure, and im- 
prints itself more upon the organism. It is easier to create 
fear than faith, and the attitude of curiosity is more 
readily tipped toward distrust than toward confidence. 
Again, anything that lowers the vitality increases the 
tendency to fears, and so we find physicians asserting 
that a universal characteristic of nervous diseases, if not 
of all disease, is the presence of fear or anxiety. 

The normal fears of children have been studied in more 
detail than any other emotion, and the various observers 
agree in their general outline of the fre- 
quency and uncaused nature of certain fears. 
It is generally agreed that certain types of stimuli call 
out instinctively the fear reaction and that these are the 
stimuli that have been phylogenetically dangerous, while 
the reactions have, on the whole, been of service. 

The very first fears, which come at least as early as 
the third month, are due almost entirely to surprise. 
Loud or unexpected sounds, therefore, such as thunder, or 
the banging of a door, or the furious barking of a dog, 



3 1 6 T h e C hi I d 

are the most common causes of these fears. A little 
later, strange objects and persons call out protests and 
tears from many children, but the fear is only slight. 
The recovery from it may be followed by laughter and 
delight. This makes it possible to train a child to face 
little fears, and afterward larger ones, bravely. 

In Sully's record the first fears of things seen were 
called out by a strange place in the fourth month, and 
by a strange face in the sixth month. This latter fear 
was not overcome for a year. New clothes may cause 
terror, and tossing in the arms and learning to walk 
alone also cause many fears. In both these cases, the 
feeling of insecurity is doubtless the potent factor. Dolls 
that have anything unusual about them, such as oddness, 
or ugliness, or broken members, also arouse fear. In 
this class also should be put fears of apparently un- 
caused occurrences, such as a feather floating in the air, 
or the shadow of a cloud moving over the grass. Some 
observers of animals claim that this is what makes horses 
shy at a bit of paper in the road. The story of the dog 
who was frightened into a fit by seeing a bone moved by 
an invisible thread also belongs here. Fear of the dark 
does not occur until the fourth month or later, as a rule, 
and is closely connected with imagination. 

All these fears may rise at any time with children who 
never had them before, and they may persist through life, 
or remain for only a short time. Fear of black things, 
black animals, black dresses, black places, and fears of furs 
and of teeth, occur also with some children without any 
experience to justify them. Whether they are reverbera- 
tions of ancestral or prenatal experience or not, we cannot 
say. Preyer records that at ten months his boy was afraid 
of high tones; and at twenty-one months, of the sun. 
Doubtless each parent can cite other individual instances. 



Feelings and Emotions 



317 



Let us consider now the proportions of children who 
have and who have not fears, and the numbers and 
the causes of the fears. It seems to be the Percentage 
case that deaf children fear more kinds of o^ ^^^^s 
things than normal children, and have more imaginary 
fears. The sense of helplessness is more prominent. 
Imbeciles, on the other hand, have fewer fears, for they 
do not know enough to be afraid. Miss Calkins has 
investigated the fears of children with these results: 





All Children 








Under 
3 Years 


3 TO 6 

Years 


6 TO 16 

Years 


No fear 


39% 
61 


11.5% 
88.5 


5 % 


Fear 


88.2 







Comparison of Boys and Girls 





Under 6 Years 


6 TO 16 Years 




Boys 


Girls 


Boys 


Girls 


No fear 


17-4% 

82.6 


24.2% 
75-8 


98.3 


0% 


Fear 


100 



The girls show less variety in their fears and are less 
afraid of imaginary things than the boys. Under three 
years, 66 per cent of the fears were of things seen, and 
23 per cent of things heard, an exact reversal of the fears 
of the baby. Both of these diminish somewhat by the 
sixth year, and the number of miscellaneous fears increases. 
The change in the objects of fear at different ages is also 
very interesting: 






z 
S 


u 

J 


u 


•f. 

H 

'/) 


a 



a. 
< 
Q 


si 


< 

Q<: 


H 
< 


Under 6 years . . 
9 to 14 years. . . 


7.3% 
2.2 


17.2% 
2.4 


2.5% 
2.2 


9.8% 
1-3 


14-7% 
60.6 


26.2% 
13.7 


93% 
4 



21 



3i8 



7" h e Child 



Imaginary fears increase from 2 7 per cent at the age of 
six to 55 per cent at fourteen. Indeed, we may probably 
class the enormous increase in the fear of wild animals 
as an imaginary fear to a large extent, for few children 
have any actual experience with wild animals. The 
fear of domestic animals decreases. All fears of the other 
things with which the child deals constantly, decrease 
steadily, except fear of nature. Here the feeling of 
helplessness and uncertainty seems to increase with 
experience. A comparison of these observations with 
the reminiscences collected by Dr. Hall which are far 
more numerous than any others, and by Holbrook, will 
be of interest. ^ 



Objects 


OF Fear under 23 Years of Age 




Hall 


Calkins 


Holbrook 


Thunder 


Girls 

14% 


Boys 
9% 




1% 








Persons 


II 

II 



6 

6 


9 
9 
9 
4 
3 


7-6% 


18 






Darkness 


4-4 


22 


Death 


6 


Domestic animals. . 


18.4 
43-4 


12 




4 
4 

h 

3 
3 

2f 
2i 


1 
5 

3 

2 
3 

32 

2 

2 










Ghosts 


22 


7o 


Wind 










Water 






Robbers 










T, 






I 


Hill 








3 










4 













Dr. Hall gives an average of 2.21 per cent fears for 
each boy, and 3.55 for each girl, while from other figures he 

1 Varendonck's recent study agrees with Hall's as to objects 
most feared. 



Feelings and Emotions 



319 



gets an average of 2.58 for each boy, and 5.46 for each girl. 
For different ages the averages are: 





Under 4 


4 TO 7 


7 TO II 


II TO 15 


IS TO 18 


18 TO 26 


Boys 

Girls •... 


1.76% 
4.89 


1.5 % 
2.44 


3.56% 
4.34 


3.69% 
6.22 


3.60% 
10.67 


2.55% 
4.31 



Bashfulness 



This directly contradicts Miss Calkins's observations 
for children under the age of six, as she found that girls 
have fewer fears than boys. 

Bashfulness is an offshoot of fear, the survival in a 
lessened form of what was active terror in our ances- 
tors. It appears in the little child as an 
instinctive shrinking from strange persons 
and things. It is not marked enough to be called fear. 
However, it may be overcome under proper condi- 
tions by imitation, but is succeeded in the second or 
third year by a second shyness, which is due to self- 
consciousness. The three-year-old hides and yet looks; 
he wants to become acquainted, but cannot forget himself 
enough to do so. Such bashfulness is likely to obtrude 
itself under unusual circumstances until adolescence is 
passed. 

The unlearned character of many of these fears is most 
significant, and points to their being truly instinctive. 
Many of them serve no useful purpose now and are 
even positive detriments. Sometimes they develop with- 
out any discoverable cause, like fear of the darkness, and 
are so intense that the most parents can do is to avoid, as 
far as possible, the occasion of them. 

In both children and adults they shade over into 
morbid fears, and into the group of states characterized 
in recent medical literature as anxiety neuroses. Morbid 
fears or phobias are uncontrollable, and cause extreme 
fears of objects or situations in themselves harmless or 



320 The Child 

harmful to a very slight degree. Familiar cases of these 
are the uncontrollable fear of cats that some persons have; 
the fear of crossing an open space or staying in a closed 
room; the fear of pronouncing a certain word; the fear 
of a bunch of grapes, ad infinitum. In such«cases the 
unfortunate victim usually recognizes the foolishness of 
the fear, but is unable to control it, and is of sound mind 
in all other directions. The phobia lessens as general 
health improves, and often gives way to another. In 
some instances it may be fought and conquered, but in 
others it persists intermittently, varying with the general 
state of health and worry of the patient. 

The anxiety neuroses are also very common states, in 
which the patient shows all the physical signs of fear 
but has no definite thing in his mind of which he is 
afraid. Here too the fundamental thing seems to be the 
state of the nervous system. We may almost say that the 
strong, vigorous person cannot worry. Under the great- 
est misfortunes and sorrow his buoyant nature reasserts 
the fundamental goodness and joy of life. The neur- 
asthenic, on the other hand, finds it equally impossible 
not to fear even when every circumstance points to success 
and happiness. 

Another morbid aspect of fears is seen in the night 
terrors of children. These may rise from various causes, 
some of them serious, and a physician should be con- 
sulted if a child is subject to them. 

As fear is so universal a factor, the proper treatment of 
spontaneous fears and the pedagogic value of fear as a 
motive are important topics. One of the most important 
things in the education of the little child is to teach him 
what objects are dangerous in the world about him. 
If he is to be self-reliant and efficient he must be able to 
deal with them in one way or another without serious 



Feelings and Emotions 321 

harm, and probably there is no way so effective as allow- 
ing the child to get slight hurts in order to make him 
cautious on his own account. Only the hurt child 
dreads the fire, knife, stairs, and other things, and the 
unhurt child must forever be rash and a great burden 
to those who so carefully protect him. The time for 
teaching these fears by slight hurts surely is while the 
child is still at home under the mother's protection. 

The instinctive fears of objects no longer dangerous 
are harder to deal with. As we have already seen, fear 
is fought indirectly by keeping the child in vigorous 
health. Aside from this an attitude of courage and calm 
on the part of parents is the best aid until the child is old 
enough to understand the harmless nature of the object 
in question. It is not always, and perhaps not usually, 
wise to leave a child at the mercy of his fear of the dark, 
or of whatever fear possesses him, for it may be so great 
that permanent nervous injury is done him. It is always 
well to encourage a child to overcome such fears, but if 
he is not old enough or strong enough to do so, he should 
certainly not be left the victim of unreasoning terror. 

As the child becomes older and the objects of fear 
become more numerous with the development of imagi- 
nation and reason, and his desire for social approval, fear 
becomes one of the most potent of educational forces. 
Fear of physical pain we have already seen to be of 
value in some cases, but fear in its milder forms — such 
as fear of losing some privilege, fear of being disliked, 
despised, and so on — -is of far greater service. Many of 
life's choices lie between what the selfish self desires and 
the social self denies, and in making the choice the factor 
of fear in these milder forms is surely as powerful as that 
of hope. To learn to fear aright, we may say in summary, 
is one of the great lessons of life. 



322 The Child 

Anger and fear are commonly considered instinctive 
emotions, that is, certain objects, upon the first acquaint- 
ance with them, will call out the same 
feelings and expressions from all men. 
Darwin observed that as early as the eighth day his 
child wrinkled his forehead and frowned before crying, 
as if angry; and in the second month Perez observed that 
the child showed anger by pushing away with a frown 
objects that he did not like. In the fourth month anger is 
certainly shown ; the face and head become red, and the cry 
shows irritation. This is caused at first by delay in supply- 
ing food ; but two or three months later it will be called out 
by any thwarting of desire, such as the dropping of a toy. 

Anger at this early age, it must be noted, is simply 
the instinctive rebelling against pain. It is wholly 
unreasonable, and is best dealt with by diverting the 
child's attention if the deprivation is for the child's 
good. As a child gets a little older, especially if he is a 
boy, he is likely to vent his anger by beating the person 
or thing that offends him, or by throwing things at them. 
Here, also, until a child can be reasoned with, diversion 
of attention and the final securing of an expression of 
affection is the wisest method of treatment. 

At best, only a few of the causes of anger can be enu- 
merated. There is, in the first place, what may be 
called an irascible disposition, with which some seem 
to be born. Disappointments and vexations which 
others would hardly notice result in violent outbursts 
Causes of oi temper. Personal peculiarities of speech, 
anger gait, dress — almost anything, in fact — may 

lead to a hatred that is almost murderous in its vindic- 
tiveness. When a child is so unfortunate in disposition, 
only the most constant, temperate, and kindly training 
in self-control will help him. 



Feelings and Emotions 323 

There are, in some cases, physical conditions caus- 
ing constant irritation which are reflected in this bad 
temper. Hence, parents should first of all ascertain 
whether the child is healthy. Fatigue is also a com- 
mon cause of irritability. With older children as with 
younger, the thwarting of expectations is one of the 
most common causes of anger. A child to whom a 
promise has been broken, who has been "fooled," who 
has been called home before he finishes his game, is 
usually an angry child. Anger over a violation of justice 
or principle is relatively uncommon in children. The 
feeling of pain or the suffering of personal injury is usually 
the underlying cause. 

As to the method to be used in controlling anger, 
we find the most conflicting theories. The natural 
tendency is to express the anger in some Control of 
way — to strike or bite or scratch, or at least anger 
to say sharp words or to slam a door. Many men find 
great relief in swearing, and others think vigorously what 
they dare not say. In all these cases there is some vent 
for the emotion, and usually it is some kind of reaction 
against the person who caused the anger. Dr. Colin 
Scott has collected cases of girls who, when angry, would 
picture themselves as dead, and the person who had 
injured them as suffering from remorse. He advocates 
this as a healthy outlet for an emotion which, if kept in 
and allowed no expression, causes more and more resentful 
brooding over the wrong. 

It is true that nothing can be worse than to brood over 
an injury, but expression of the anger is not the only 
alternative for this. Anything that keeps the mind off 
the injury and uses up the energy is equally service- 
able. A long walk, chopping wood, carpentry work, 
embroidery — anything that is not so habitual as to be 



324 The Child 

automatic, anything that forces one to attend to it, may be 
the vent for anger. Then after a time the first strength 
of the emotion passes away, and we can combat it by 
reason and by the cultivation of love or pity in its place. 

It is doubtful if anything but harm comes from allow- 
ing ourselves to express any bad emotion. The very 
expression reenforces the feeling" and makes it more 
lasting. We can do naught but condemn the atti- 
tude which is cultivated by picturing one's self as the 
injured party, the cause of remorse to others. One 
may or may not have been injured when one has been 
angered, but whether or not this is the case, the pose of 
self -righteousness, of the injured martyr, is the pose of 
a prig and has nothing admirable in it. In short, to repress 
the expression of anger, and to cultivate the expression 
of love, is in large part to repress the anger and increase 
the love, and is the best training in self-control. 

Jealousy, Gesell tells us, is both one of the most primi- 
tive and one of the most painful emotions. It seems 
to be present even among invertebrate ani- 
mals, and from them up to man it plays 
an important part in shaping the development of the 
species. Among animals it appears in connection with 
feeding, mating, and breeding, and serves as a corrective 
to too great sociability or sympathy, with the connected 
danger of injury to the individual. 

Among children it appears during the first year, espe- 
cially with regard to feeding and holding, and it may be- 
come very acute in children of a year and a half or two 
years of age. The child is not only jealous of other 
children, but of any one who takes the attention of the 
mother or nurse from himself. 

School children have a wider range of jealousies, and they 
are the motivation of much apparent cruelty, bullying, 



Feelings and Emotions 325 

and teasing. The school system of rewards offers plenty 
of occasion for jealousy, but clothing, school lunches, 
toys, and other things do as well. The adolescent is still 
more subject to this passion, and while it may take on 
the sexual fonn it is by no means limited to this. 

Among little children jealousy is shown in such ways 
as stamping, screaming, fighting, or kicking, while with 
children from six to twelve it is more likely to appear in 
sulking, slandering, or threatening. The same is true of 
youth. At all ages the jealous child is likely to attempt 
to even the scales in any convenient way, playing a trick 
on the envied person, snubbing him, making faces at 
him. "If we cannot exalt ourselves we humiliate others, 
and make ourselves worthy by making them feel cheap; 
the net result is the same: a more non-irritating level." 

Whether jealousy has any value, and if so how it should 
be treated, are difficult problems on account of the great 
intensity and complexity of the feeling. Sutherland 
believes that family life will never be kept up to its highest 
level without a certain amount of sexual jealousy, which 
both develops and preserves conjugal fidelity and monog- 
amy. On the other hand, the danger in the instinct 
appears in all sorts of examples in which the sex factor 
does not appear. Many distinguished men find it psy- 
chologically impossible for them to praise or to assist 
another distinguished man in their own line of work. 
The backbiting among those in any given profession is 
notorious, and is by no means limited to persons who have 
themselves injured or slighted the backbiter. The young 
doctor or lawyer just beginning practice must fight not 
only indifference on the part of possible patients but hos- 
tility from those in his own line. Any slight preeminence, 
by that fact alone, brings a certain amount of jealousy 
of the capable person, with the allied unfriendly actions. 



326 The C li i I d 

Again, the effect of jealousy both upon the subject and 
the object seems to be bad in many cases. Out of one 
hundred and twenty testimonies given to Gesell, seventy- 
six say they feel humiliated and shamed by an attack of 
jealousy, and only a few testify to the good resulting 
from their attempt to overcome the passion. Out of 
two hundred and four persons testifying as to their atti- 
tude toward a person jealous of them, seventy-nine felt 
kindness or pity, but only twenty-three did anything 
to allay the jealousy. The others, in about equal pro- 
portions, shunned the person, felt dislike or contempt, 
pride or triumph. Thirty-two tried to aggravate and 
torment the jealous person. 

Altogether, even though we admit that jealousy, to some 
degree, is almost inevitable in the life of every person, 
it seems probable that it is naturally so intense that little 
but harm can come from rousing it in its more primitive 
forms, and that even in the higher forms of rivalry and 
emulation great caution must be used. If the child's and 
youth's mind can be fixed on raising himself to the desired 
level, the worst effect will be escaped, though even here 
he may feel unworthy pangs when a rival succeeds ; but if 
his energies are directed to keeping others below himself, 
there is no limit to the depths to which he may sink. 

Gesell's suggestions as to the treatment of jealousy in 
children are admirable. Jealousy is a sign of a wounded 
self, and is most effectively cured by comforting, reassur- 
ing, and restoring this self. In little children repeated 
reassurances of the parents' love, of their equal love for 
all their children, are the best preventive and cure. With 
older children, added to this should be considerations 
of ways in which the child may respect or congratulate 
himself on what he is or has. The development of a 
normal pride and self-respect for worthy qualities is the 



Feelings and Emotions 327 

best preventive of morbid jealousy; and, conversely, the 
parents who teach excessive humility and self -depreciation 
are also preparing a fertile ground for jealousy and all her 
ugly brood of sneaking meannesses. 

In Ordahl's opinion, the higher emotions of rivalry and 
emulation may be safely used if they are restricted to the 
field of action, but not in the field of revelation and insight. 

Prominent among the pleasures that seem to have no 
object, is the child's delight in being tickled. A summary 
of Dr. G. Stanley Hall's investigation of this subject 
follows. Most children and even adults have a tendency 
to fuss with the skin, to rub it or scratch it, especially 
if it has any slight bruise, roughness, or Tickling and 
eruption that causes a feeling of uneasiness, laughing 
There seems to be a demand on the part of the skin, as 
of the other sense organs, to be stimulated. This need 
is satisfied by rubbing, and also, especially, by tickling. 
The sensitiveness of the parts of the body varies more or 
less, but this is the general order: soles, under arms, 
neck, under chin, waist, ribs, and cheeks. Many children 
can be thrown almost into fits by a little tickling, and 
at some we need only point the finger to send them into 
gales of laughter. Dr. Hall considers this great sensi- 
tiveness a survival of ancestral experiences in tropical 
lands, where the sense of touch must be very delicate to 
escape the bite of poisonous insects. 

Another source of merriment to children is found in 
the animal world. Children, says Dr. Hall, have a closer 
connection with animals than do adults, because the 
organs common to men and animals, which in the adult 
are atrophied, are relatively larger in the child. There 
are over one hundred and forty of such organs, and they 
furnish a larger background of common feeling than is 
possible with the adult. The animals which are most 



328 The Child 

often the cause of merriment are, in the order of fre- 
quency, the dog, cat, pig, monkey, rooster, crow, chicken, 
duck, ape, goose, sheep, cow, and horse. Children are 
also prone to laugh at what is forbidden or secret. This 
is due to a relief of tension. Dr. Hall thinks, and is inju- 
rious on every account. It lessens the restraint upon 
social decency, and gives rise to wrong feelings about 
sexual subjects. It furnishes still another argument in 
favor of giving a child knowledge of such matters. 

A crude sense of humor seems to rise at an early age, 
showing itself in the love of practical jokes as well as in 
puns and alliterations and conundrums and word riddles. 
Kline and Colvin have pointed out the value of training 
the sense of humor. It keeps the mental structure pliant, 
and does much therefore to enable the individual to meet 
obstacles with equanimity. 

Out of nine hundred children 40 per cent remember 
a Christmas or a birthday as the happiest day of their 
Joys and lives; and 25 per cent remember an ex cur- 
sorrows sion or a picnic on account of the fun that 
they had. Anything of a pleasing nature which introduces 
novelty into a child's life delights him. 

The death of some relative or friend caused the unhap- 
piest day for 50 per cent of the children, while sickness, 
phj^sical punishment, or disappointment caused it for 
35 per cent. In general, the greatest joys and sorrows of 
a child at any time or age are connected with the satis- 
faction or thwarting of his strongest interest. 

The first expression of sympathy is purely imitative. 
The baby of six months draws down his mouth when 
Sympathy others cry, and laughs in response to laughter. 
and pity jf James's theory of the emotions be true, 

this instinctive reaction creates a corresponding state of 
mind, at least to a slight degree, which is the basis of 



Feelings and E m o ti o n s 329 

sympathy. As a child grows older, he learns more and 
more by experience what states of feeling certain expres- 
sions stand for, and is able to put himself into the other 
person's place. Prcyer records that in the twenty-seventh 
month his son cried with pity at seeing paper dolls cut 
in two. This first pity is, as we should expect, shown in 
connection with physical things — hunger and cold, lack 
of shelter and clothing. On the other hand, children 
frequently laugh at deformity and sorrow. One of the 
sad chapters in the lives of feeble-minded children is 
that they can seldom be allowed to play with nonnal 
children because they are badly treated. Such ill treat- 
ment is not, however, so much a sign of cruelty in children 
as of ignorance, and can usually be cured by showing the 
child the real suffering that he is causing. 

In the same way he can be taught kindness to animals. 
It is certainly true that very often when children are 
hurting animals cruelly and are laughing at their con- 
tortions of pain, they do not see anything more than the 
mere movements, as of a jumping-jack. Their fondness 
for practical jokes shows this same characteristic. The 
only cure for such lack of sympathy is a wide experience 
and a constant exercise of the imagination in "putting 
yourself in his place." When Marie Antoinette was told 
that the starving peasants of France had no bread to 
eat she a'^ked in all simplicity, "Then why do they not 
eat cake?" She lacked the experience necessary for 
sympathy. 

It is commonly said that the child's first affection is 
given to his mother and is based upon his physical depend- 
ence on her and his pleasure in the wannth 
and comfort he obtains from her. It is 
difficult, however, to see how anything but the feeling 
of dependence and of personal enjoyment can rise from 



330 The Child 

this basis. Rather, we take the ground with Dewey, that 
sympathy which seeks an outlet in action is love, and 
that antipathy which seeks an outlet in action is hate. 
When our liking for a person depends solely upon his 
usefulness to us, it is unworthy of the name of love. • 

To return to the baby, his first spontaneous caresses 
are, naturally enough, given to the one who tends him 
and whom he knows best — his mother. As he grows 
older, the love of parents and of friends can show itself 
more and more in different ways, and his first responses, 
which were to a large extent instinctive and vague, 
also become more varied. His love for his parents deepens 
and widens to include friends and God. 

Mothers sometimes lament the growth of their children 
to manhood and womanhood, as if the bonds of love were 
lessened thereby. This may happen where a child is 
allowed to accept without any return the greatest sacrifices 
from his parents. He is thereby taught selfishness 
Selfishness and allowed to think that his good is distinct 
in affection from his parents' and superior to it. It is 
sometimes said that the most selfish person is the one 
most tenderly loved. There is a certain truth in this. 

Love is, in its very nature, active and self-sacrificing, 
and increases in proportion to what it does. If it is 
expended upon a selfish person who is believed to be 
worthy of it, or if it is called out toward a sick or helpless 
person, it finds ample room for growth. So when a child 
is little, the parents' love is peculiarly tender, and it is 
hard to have this love grow into a different, though 
equally strong one, and still harder to train the child 
to love by teaching him sympathy and service. 

Love and service are, however, inseparable terms, and 
so, even from babyhood, the little one should be allowed 
and encouraged to do his best in helping about the house, 



Feelings and E m o t i o n s 331 

in comforting his parents in their worries, and in cele- 
brating their joys. 

In every possible case some act expressive of his love 
should be suggested, and with it, the loving word and 
the caress. Anglo-Saxons are proverbially 
reserved; in our fear of hypocrisy, we go to 
the other extreme of reticence. Many a child can 
remember each individual kiss that he has received from 
parents who would give their lives for him if necessary, 
and who do sacrifice many pleasures and luxuries. Such 
restraint works a harm to the child in allowing him to 
believe himself unloved in contrast to his more fortunate 
companions who are kissed and caressed. He is not of 
an age to understand the love that gives up comforts to 
provide him an education, while leaving him without the 
loving word and the kiss for which he longs. Parents 
do themselves wrong in their children's eyes, and hurt 
the children, by such methods. Is it not better to have 
both the act and the word or caress? We understand 
that words without deeds are vain, but why should we 
not have words with deeds? 

Finally, there is no better way to cast out hate, jeal- 
ousy, and all their brood than by service; loving service 
if possible, but any sort of service at first Love and 
to which we can persuade the child. A service 
forced kindness later becomes spontaneous if persisted in. 
While it may only breed hypocrisy in a child to compel 
him to treat kindly a child whom he dislikes, yet we can 
very often call his attention to some interesting or lovable 
or pitiable trait so that he will of his own accord help 
the child and grow to like him. 

Richter tells us to teach our children to love, and 
they will need no ten commandments, and we have a 
higher authority than his for the belief that the Law and 



332 The Child 

the prophets are summed u]) in the commandments to 
love God, and to love our neighbor. 



REFERENCES 

Baldwin, J. Mark. Bashfulness in Children. Ed. Rev., Vol. 
VIII, 434-441. (Same as in Menial Development.) 
Mental Development: Methods and Processes. See Index. 
Macmillan, N. Y. $1.75. 

Bell, Sanford. Emotion of Love between the Sexes. Am. Jour. 
Psy., July igo2. 

Bergson, Henri. Laughter. Macmillan, 191 1, 200 pp. 

Borgquist, Alvin. Crying. A^n. Jour. Psy., 1906, 149-205. 

Bowles, Mary E. Emotions of Deaf Children Compared with Emo- 
tions of Hearing Children. Ped. Sem., Oct. 1895, 331-334. 

Boyd, A. K. H. Concerning the Sorrows of Childhood. Atlantic 
Mo., Vol. IX. 

Brill, A. A. The Anxiety Neuroses. Jour. Abn. Psy., Vol. V, 
1910, 57-68. Brief Bibliog. 

Calvin, S. S. Educational Value of Humor. Ped. Sem., 1907, 

517-524- 
Campbell, Harry. Morbid Shyness. Brit. Med. Jour., Sept. 1896, 

805-807. 
Cannon, W. G. Physiological Changes Accompanying Fear and 

Rage. Psy. Bull., Feb. 15, 1912. 
Carpenter, E. Affection in Education. Int. Jour. Ethics, 1899, 

Vol. IX, 482-494. 
Compayre, G. Intellectual and Moral Development of the Child, 

165-208. First Emotions. Appleton, N. Y. f 1.50. 
Darwin, C. Biography of a Child. Mind, 1877. 
Dugas, L. La timidilc. Baillicre, Paris, 1898, 167 pp. 
Falkenthal, K. Emotional Life of Children. Wellesley Coll. Psy. 

Studies. Ped. Sem., Vol. Ill, 319-330. 
Fere, Ch. Pathology of the Emotions. University Press, London, 

1899. 525 PP- 
Ferrero, G. Cruelty and Pity in Woman. Monist, 1893, 220-234. 
Gesell, Arnold. Jealousy. Am. Joiir. Psy., 1906, 437-495. 

Bibliog. 
Groos, Karl. The Play of Man, 166-169, 232-237. Appleton, 

N. Y., 1901. $1.50. 



Feelings and Emotions 333 

Hall, G. S. Adolescence. See Index. 

Education of the Heart. Kgn. Mag., Vol. XI, May 1899, 
592-595; 599-600; 604-607; also Redlands Rev. Press, Kept 
S. Cal. Teach. Assn., Dec. 21-24, 1908, 31-38. 
Anger. Am. Jour. Psy., 1899, Vol. X, 516-591. 
Fears. Am. Jour. Psy., 1897, Vol. VIII, 147-249. 
Hall, G. S., and AUin, A. Psychology of Tickling, Laughing and 

the Comic. Am. Jour. Psy., Vol. IX, 2-40, 234-240. 
Hall, G. S., and Saunders, F. H. Pity. Am. Jour. Psy., Vol. XI, 

534-591- 
Hall, G. S., and Smith, T. L. Showing Off and Bashfulness. Ped. 

Sem., Sept. 1903, 275-314. 
Harrison, M. M. Child's Sense of Fear. Arena, 1896, 960-969. 
Hartenberg, P. Psychology of Shyness. Paid., Vol. II, 110. 
Holbrook, A. S. Fear in Childhood. Barnes's Studies in Educ, 

18-21. U. of Chicago Press, Chicago. 
Janet, Pierre. Major Symptoms of Hysteria. Macmillan, 1907, 

345 PP- 
Kline, L. W. Nature, Origin and Function of Humor. Pop. 

Sc. Mo., 1908, 144-156. 
Little, E. G. Night Terrors. Brit. Med. Jour., Apr. 19, 1899. 
McNaughton, Jones H. Fear and Evolution of . Child. Child, 

1910, 109-115. 
Maitland, Louise. Children's Attitude towards Ghosts. (Fear.) 

Barnes's Studies in Ed., 64-67, 176-177. U. of Chicago 

Press, Chicago. 
Malapert, P. Le sentiment de la colere. Bull, de la Soc. Libre, 

Jan. 1903, 241. Also Ann. Psy., 1902, 1-40. 
Morse, Josiah. Psychology and Neurology of Fear. Am. Jour. 

Rel. Psy., Monog., Sept.-Nov. 1907, 106 pp. 
Mosso, A. Fear, Chapter XL Longmans, N. Y. $1.75. 
Oppenheim, Nathan. Textbook of Nervous Diseases. Section on 

Psychasthenic Conditions. 
Ordahl, Geo. Rivalry. Ped. Sem., 1908, 492-549. Bibliog. 
Perez, B. First Three Years of Childhood, Chapter V. Bardcenj 

Syracuse. $1.50. 
Preyer, W. Senses and Will. Appleton, N. Y., 140-176. $1.50. 
Ribot, Th. Psychology of Emotions. See Index. Scribner's, N. Y. 

$1.25- 

Siviter, Anna P. Fear of Childhood. Kgn. Mag., October 1899, 
Vol. XII, 82-87. 



334 The Child 

Slack, H. W. Origin and Development of the Emotional Nature. 

C. S. M., 1900, 96. 
Stanley, Hiram. Evolutionary Psychology of Feeling. See Index. 

Macmillan, N. Y. $2.25. 
Psychology of Pity. Science, Sept. 28, 1900. 
Stevenson, A. Jealousy in Infants. Science, October 1892. 
Stryker, Mabel F. Children's Joys and Sorrows. C. S. M., Oct. 

1898, 217-225. 
Sully, James. Studies of Childhood. Subject of Fear. 190-227. 

Appleton, N. Y. $2.50. 
An Essay on Laughter. Longmans, 1902, 441 pp. 
Tuke, Hack. Dictionary of Psy. Medicine, article on Night Terrors. 
Tyrrell, M. A. Fear in Home and Household. Nineteenth Cent., 

1908, 447-453- 
Varendonck, J. Phobies d'enfants. Rev. Psy., 1910, Vol. Ill, 

5-45- 
Vostrovsky, Clara. Children's Superstitions. Barnes's Studies in 

Educ, 123-143. U. of Chicago Press, Chicago. 
Whitney, H. M. Fear as a Religious Motive. Bibliotheca Sacra, 

Apr. 1906, 227-241. 
Wilson, Geo. R. Sense of Danger and Fear of Death. Monist, 

Vol. XIII, 1902-3, 352-369. 



CHAPTER XIV 

Impulsive, Reflex, and Instinctive Movements 

1. Keep a record of the development in some indi- 
vidual child of the movements described in this chapter, 
(i) Impulsive movements. Note especially Observa- 
the posture of the baby in sleep. When tio^s 
does a child begin to sleep lying straight? (2) Reflex 
movements. Note especially whether, in case of tick- 
ling or of brushing away an object, the baby uses the 
right hand or the hand on the same side of the body. 
That is, is he right-handed from birth, and if not, when 
does right-handedness appear? Note also the earliest 
inhibitions of movements. (3) Instinctive movements. 
Note especially to what degree the baby is impeded by 
long clothes. Watch for a climbing instinct. If possible, 
take instantaneous photographs of the nude baby's posi- 
tions in learning these movements 

2 . Gather reminiscences from young people or adults of 
any one of the following instincts: migrating instinct 
(running away from home); hunting instinct; cave- 
digging instinct; tent-living instinct; collecting instinct. 
In all cases note: 

(i) Age when the instinct developed. 

(2) Length of time it lasted. 

(3) Circumstances that called it out. 

(4) Strength. How much could it withstand in the 

way of inducements to other sports, commands 
of parents against indulging in it, etc. ? 

(5) Is there any tendency to it now, such as hunting trips, 

camping, etc. ? After how long a period is this ? 

335 



336 The Child 

With the discussion of movements we enter upon the 
last stage of our subject — the child's doing. Here, as 
Introduc- in other cases, we are not preserving a 
^^^^ strictly chronological order in our description, 

for as a matter of fact thinking and doing go hand in hand 
in mental development, each requiring the other in order 
for it to get beyond the rudimentary stages. So close is 
this connection that in the chapter on Perception we 
were obliged to anticipate this phase of the subject by 
discussing grasping in connection with seeing, and now 
in considering movements we shall be referring constantly 
to the stimulus to movement given by the senses. 

In thus discussing feeling, thinking, and doing sep- 
arately, we have been guided principally by the desire 
to show clearly the continuity of the development of 
each mental process from birth to maturity, showing, 
for instance, how the character of conceptions and of 
religious ideas develops as the child matures. In thus 
abstracting each mental process from the others in 
which it is embedded, we do as does the dissector, who 
follows out before his class the course of but one nerve 
or blood vessel, ignoring for the time the complex of 
other nerves, blood vessels, and tissues that enmesh it. 
Such a separation is imperative for purposes of study, 
but it is only preliminary to the attempt to see as a 
whole the living organism in which each nerve and 
blood vessel plays its part. So now that the growth of 
the child's body and mind has been studied, as far as 
the present state of child-study observations allows, 
there comes at last the consideration of how he, with his 
body as a tool, learns to express his thought; for in this 
expression the whole childish self is most clearly revealed. 

Precedent to the child's conscious and voluntary 
expression of thought, however, is a stage during which 



Impulsive, Reflex, and Instinctive Movements 337 

he has Httle or no control over his movements. The 
activities at this stage do indeed express to us the baby's 
condition and his traits as a member of the human race, 
but he does not intend to express himself thus, and is 
unable either to make or prevent his movements 
voluntarily. 

Impulsive movements are also called spontaneous, 
random, or automatic. In the whole discussion of the 
subject there is great variety both in the impulsive 
terms used and in the meanings attached to movements 
the terms. Some writers class as instinctive what 
others call reflex, and others make instinctive move- 
ments cover nearly the whole range of human activities. 
In a book of this nature it would be useless and confusing 
to discuss and weigh such conflicting claims. We shall 
therefore imitate Tracy in using Preyer's classification, 
making the same reservation that Tracy does — that 
the use of Preyer's classification does not bind us to 
accept his theory of will. 

Impulsive movements are movements resulting from 
changes within the motor center itself. They seem to 
require no stimulus from outside, and no sensory ele- 
ments. Many fetal movements are impulsive, and also 
many of the movements present at birth, although their 
variety is not great. There are stretchings and bend- 
ings of arms and legs; spreadings and bendings of fingers 
and toes; striking with the arms; stretching after wak- 
ing; all sorts of grimaces; movements of the eyeballs 
before the eyes are opened; crowings and babblings; 
and the "accompanying movements," such as move- 
ments of the arms on hearing music or seeing bright 
colors or tasting agreeable food. 

The better the health and feeding of the child, the 
more numerous and vigorous are the movements likely 



338 



The Child 



to be. Their general use is evidently that they serve 
as exercises to prepare the muscles for later instinctive 
Direction of ^^^ voluntary action, and Mumford believes 
the move- that they are also vestiges of movements 
ments ^j^^^ once were useful in the bodily economy 

but are no longer so. They are decaying instincts, so 
to speak. 

Why they take the particular form that they do seems 
to depend upon the prenatal posture and the bodily 
structure at the ti'me of birth, as Trettien shows. The 
arm and leg movements are at first always in line with 
the body, that is, forward and back or up and down, 
never out and in. In the case of the arms this seems to 
be due especially to the shape of the chest and shoulders. 
As the back straightens and the chest expands, side 
movements become easier. With both arms and legs, 
the up and down movement is also the most natural on 
account of the habitual posture of tne baby. Trettien 
shows the habitual positions of arms and hands at great 
length, thus : ^ 



Position 


Male 


Female Average 


Fingers — 

Clenched 


83% 
12 

5 

69 

31 

100 

66 
34 

98 
2 


87% 
4 
9 

65 
35 

96 

68 
32 

92 

8 


85 
8 

7 

■67 

33 

98 
2 

67 
33 

95 

5 


Bent 

Straight 


Wrists — 

Bent 


Straight 


Elbows — 

Bent 

Straight 

Shoulders — 

Bent 

Straight . . . . • 


Arms 

Laid in front 

Laid at side 



1 The tables are based on different numbers of children, varying 
from 58 to 182. In all cases the tables are given in per cents. 



Impulsive, Reflex, and Instinctive Movements 339 

The legs are habitually bent at the hips and knees, 
the feet crossed, the soles turned toward the median 
line and the toes curled down over the soles. The whole 
body tends to assume the curve of the prenatal position. 
With such an habitual posture for trunk, arms and legs, 
and fingers and toes, what other movements are probable 
except the stretching of the back, the unbending of arms 
and legs, and the spreading of fingers and toes? 

These movements, as we can easily see, foreshadow 
the later movements— the arm movements those of 
reaching and grasping, the leg movements those of 
walking. We cannot so easily explain the extraordi- 
nary grimaces which often possess the baby's face at 
this time, but they probably mark the first paths of the 
facial expression which is to come later. We find that 
as volimtary movements increase, impulsive movements 
decrease in the normal person. Numerous connec- 
tions between the sensory and the motor centers are 
formed by education and experience, so that the trend of 
development is away from impulsive movements rather 
than toward them. Yet Compayre maintains that some 
persist even in the adult. 

Reflex movements differ from impulsive in that they 
require a peripheral stimulus to call them out, but, like 
them, no attention or idea is necessary for Reflex 
the performance. They are inherited, but movements 
the baby performs them more slowly and imperfectly 
at first than later. This is a decided advantage, for the 
baby has no power to inhibit movements for some time 
after birth, and if the reflexes were easily started, he 
would be subject to convulsions. 

Reflex movements may be called out even early in 
the prenatal life by gentle stroking, by changes of tem- 
perature, or by shock. After birth, they are numerous. 



340 The Child 

Most important of all is the group of periodic reflexes, 
under which come the various actions necessary to 
sustain life. To this group belong all the actions con- 
nected with respiration. Breathing is itself a reflex act, 
due to the stimulation of the air, and the cry of the 
newborn child is caused by the spasmodic action of the 
larynx when the air reaches it. At first the breathing 
is very irregular and rapid, sometimes almost ceasing, 
and then continuing with greater force and rapidity. In 
the seventh week there are about twenty-eight respira- 
tions to the minute; in the twenty-eighth month, about 
twenty-two, but even then a stimulus which is insuf- 
ficient to wake the sleeping child will cause a rapid 
increase in the number of respirations. 

Sneezing is possible even at birth, and with some 
babies takes the place of the first cry. Preyer pro- 
duced it on the thirty-eighth day by pouring warm 
water on the baby's forehead; and on the one hundred 
and seventieth day by merely blowing in his face. The 
baby's eyes are always closed in sneezing. 

Swallowing is present even before birth. Coughing 
has been observed in the first hour; choking and hic- 
coughing on the first day; yawning on the seventh day; 
wheezing and snoring on the twenty-fourth day; and 
sobbing not until considerably later, about the seventh 
month in Preyer's boy. 

Other important periodic reflexes are the heartbeat, the 
contraction and relaxation of the arteries, the movements 
of the bowels, and so on. Regurgitation, which occurs as 
early as the first week, should also be mentioned here. 

Among reflexes that are not periodic should be men- 
tioned the group of eye-reflexes. In describing the 
development of sight these were discussed, and so need 
only be mentioned here. 



Impulsive, Reflex, and Instinctive Movements 341 

The entire body reacts to get rid of unpleasant stimuli, 
even from birth, although it requires a stronger stimulus 
then than later. The pain-reficxes are the least developed 
of all at birth. A baby can be pricked with a pin, even 
until the blood comes in some cases, without reacting. 

But there is a stronger response to some other stimuli. 
Within five minutes of birth the toes will spread out if 
tickled, and, like the hands, will clasp any object laid 
within them. The reflex handclasp is one of the most 
remarkable for its perfection and strength. Robinson 
examined sixty newborn children and found that within 
one hour after birth they could all hang suspended from 
a stick by their hands, for a time varying from two 
seconds to one minute. Twelve hung for one-half 
minute and four for one minute without crying or show- 
ing any signs of distress. The strength of grip increased 
up to the third week, when several hung for one and 
one-half minutes. Here there seems to be a distinct 
survival of arboreal life habits, when the baby had to 
cling to its climbing mother in order to preserve its own 
life. All the arm reflexes are stronger at first than the 
leg reflexes, and the arms are relatively more developed 
than the legs. 

Other reflex movements occur to escape persistent 
stimuli. Preyer found that in tickling the temple the 
baby usually used the right hand to brush away the 
object; while Pfliiger maintains that, as a rule, the hand 
on the same side is used. 

At first, as mentioned above, a baby has no control 
over its reflex movements; they must follow when the 
stimulus is given, whether he wishes them or not. 
Preyer dates the first inhibitions between the ninth and 
twelfth months, when the child begins to show some 
slight control over bowel movements; but, although 



342 T h e C h i I d 

observations are lacking, one may fairly question whether 
before this time there are not some inhibitions of arm 
and leg reflexes or of those connected with respiration. 
In all cases the control is irregular at first, and fails if 
the child is tired, inattentive, or not well. 

Instinct is differently defined by different writers, and 
the distinction between it and reflexes is by no means 
Instinctive hard and fast. Instinctive movements seem 
movements to differ from reflex movements principally 
in being more complex and in having a less developed 
mechanism for their performance than reflexes have. 

Instinctive acts are inherited, that is, there is an 
inborn disposition to their performance, but they require 
a stimulus to start them, and they may be greatly modi- 
fied or even suppressed by training. They are acts 
which have been serviceable to the race and are present 
to a greater or less degree in every member of it, but in 
man they vary so in their manifestations that it is almost 
impossible to know what actions have an instinctive 
root and what have not. There are, however, certain 
acts which are clearly instinctive. 

In this Hst belong sucking, biting, chewing, grinding 
the teeth, and licking. Sucking comes the nearest of 
any of these to a reflex act, and is some- 
cenSig^ ^ times classed as one because brainless chil- 
about the dren perform it as well as do the normal. It 
mouth .g ^g^g^jjy complctc at birth, but in some cases 

has to be partially taught. It lasts in its full strength 
until the first teeth come, but as we have already noted, 
for a long time most objects go to the child's mouth 
to be sucked and licked before the child feels that he 
really knows them, and even the adult likes at times to put 
something into his mouth to suck. Licking usually accom- 
panies sucking, and is present even on the first day. 



Impulsive, Reflex, and Instinctive Movements 343 

Biting and chewing are instinctive acts which may 
appear as early as the fourth month, before any teeth 
are through. A baby will bite and chew his fingers, 
his rattle, the glass he drinks from. Grinding the teeth 
also appears to be a common occupation. It may be 
done when but two teeth are through, but usually not 
until about the ninth month, when four teeth are through. 

At birth the ability of children to lift their heads 
varies considerably. In some, even on the first day, 
there is enough surplus energy to lift the head Holding up 
from its support ; in others, not until the the head 
second or third week. The neck muscles are very small 
at birth, and increase in their growth to maturity to 
nine times their original size. At first the head, when 
unsupported, drops on the chest and rolls to one side. 
Preyer maintains that the dropping is not due to mus- 
cular weakness, but to lack of will, because even in the 
first week the head can turn to follow a moving light. 

Miss Shinn records that at the end of the first month 
her niece could hold up her head unsteadily for a few 
seconds, and by the end of the second month could 
hold it steadily and continuously. Preyer's records 
date the act between the eleventh and sixteenth weeks, 
while Demme's observations on one hundred and fifty 
children place the event between the third and fourth 
months for strong children; at four and one-half months 
for moderately strong ones and in the fifth or sixth 
month for weakly ones. 

The child has a strong incentive to hold the head up 
after the sixth or eighth week, for then convergence and 
accommodation of the eyes are established, so that he 
can see clearly. The attempts to raise the head not 
only strengthen the neck muscles, but those of the back 
and chest as well, so that they prepare the child 



344 



The Child 



for erect sitting, which follows almost immediately. 

We have described the development of the reaching 
and grasping instinct at length in the chapter on Sensa- 
tion and Perception. 

After the baby can see distinctly and has learned to 
hold his head up, he is very likely to resent being laid 
Sitting down in his crib, although before he was 

erect ^ell satisfied with that position. Now he 

insists upon a sitting position, where he can see the 
fascinating world about him. This desire to sit up 
comes between the second and fourth months as a rule, 
and the baby will make all sorts of efforts to lift himself 
by a supporting finger, or by strain of the abdominal 
muscles. He is very unlikely to succeed, however, 
unless he is somewhat raised to begin with, for neither 
back nor abdomen is strong enough alone. 

A baby who thus wants to see but cannot sit alone, 
should be provided with a cushioned support that will 
support and yet yield to movements, so that he can 
carry on his education without harm to himself. He will 
also get practice in sitting in his bath and in laps, and 
by some time between the fifth and eighth months will 
be able to sit alone on a hard, smooth surface. By the 
eleventh month the baby's seat is firm, although when 
reaching for things he sometimes tips over. 

Both Preyer and Trettien insist that a baby should 
rather be discouraged than encouraged to sit alone, 
and that the back should at first be supported by a pil- 
low. Preyer says that he should not be allowed to sit 
up until he has proved his fitness by raising himself with- 
out encouragement from a prone to a sitting position. 

The first sitting position is very awkward. Usually 
the knees are bent and the soles turned toward each 
other like a monkey's. 



Impulsive, Reflex, and Instinctive Movements 345 

In learning to walk, there are several well-defined 

stages. In the first place, long before the baby makes 

any attempts to move from the place where 
.....,..■, ,, . . , Locomotion 

he IS laid, his legs, as well as his arms, make 

various movements. These are, as we have seen, impul- 
sive at first, but later they become a source of great 
pleasure to the baby, and by the third or fourth month 
he is kicking up his legs as much as his elaborate cloth- 
ing will allow. The movements become rhythmic and 
alternating, evidently an advance toward stepping, and 
by the seventh month he will straighten and press 
his legs against an opposing surface and, if held up, 
begin to take steps. He also enjoys standing when 
supported. He is still, however, very far from inde- 
pendent walking, and goes through at least one pre- 
liminary stage, and often two or three, which are useful 
in strengthening the various muscles that will later be 
used in walking. 

When a baby is strong enough, if laid on his back 
he will roll over on to his stomach, sometimes just for 
love of the movement, sometimes acciden- 
tally in reaching for an object. Mrs. Hall's 
baby turned from side to back in the ninth week, but 
not from side to side until the middle of the seventh 
month, and Miss Shinn's niece began her career of rolling 
near the end of the sixth month, and continued it with 
increasing vigor up to the eighth month, when creeping 
began. "She would now roll over and over in any 
direction, not to get anywhere in particular, but just 
for the fun of the thing. She varied the exercise with 
the most lively kicking, the heels raised in the air and 
brought down together with astonishing vigor and zest; 
or with twisting about and getting on hands and knees, 
or even on hands and feet, prattling joyously and having 



346 The Child 

a beautiful time all by herself for as long as the authorities 
would leave her alone." 

Instead of rolling, some babies stumble upon hitch- 
ing. They jerk themselves along from one side to the 
other, backwards or forwards, in a most ungainly fashion. 
Where there is hitching it may precede creeping, or 
may take its place. Trettien gives the following per 
cents, based on returns from seventy-five boys and 
seventy-five girls, to show the usual mode of locomo- 
tion: Of the one hundred and fifty children, 60 per 
cent of them crept, 30 per cent hitched, 7 per cent 
rolled, and 3 per cent crawled, humped, made swimming 
movements, etc. He does not note in how many of these 
children both creeping and some other fonn of locomotion 
preceded walking. 

By the sixth or seventh month a baby begins to get 
up on to his hands and knees, and now and then to 
stretch or scramble for something that he 
wants. Some time between the eighth and 
eleventh months he begins really to creep. Here, also, 
we find all sorts of odd ways/.' Of the babies Trettien 
watched, 6 per cent crept backward at first. Both 
Miss Shinn and Mrs. Hall record this. It is due to 
the fact that the baby's arms are stronger than his legs 
and are predisposed to push instead of to pull, so that 
until he has learned to coordinate his movements he 
pushes himself away from the object he wants, instead 
of toward it. Much to his amazement and displeasure 
he finds it moving away instead of approaching him. / 
However, he soons learns better. 

The relative movements of hands and knees are almost 
as varied as the nimiber of these members will allow. 
Some babies move with the opposite hand and knee 
down at once, but just as many move like pacers, with 



Impulsive, Reflex, and Instinctive Movements 347 

the hand and knee of the same side down at once. ; A 
fairly large proportion use arms and hands alone, dragging 
the body and legs; and almost as many go on hands and 
feet instead of knees. •/' Others crawl like snakes, with 
the arms close to the sides and the legs almost straight; 
and still others hump like worms, drawing the legs up 
and then stretching the arms and body forward. In all 
cases there are, of course, many unnecessary movements 
made at first that are dropped by degrees. 

We have already seen that even at birth the baby's 
clasp is strong enough to support him hanging, and 
that the first efforts to sit up are, as a rule, 
preceded by pulling himself up from a lying 
to a sitting position. The muscles of arms and hands 
are relatively stronger than at any other time of life, 
and we should naturally expect from this fact a stage 
when the baby's desire to use them would be marked, 
that is, a climbing stage. Preyer, careful observer 
though he was, does not even refer to such a stage, 
although he gives a detailed account of seizing. On the 
other hand, all the accounts of learning to stand show 
how important a factor is the ability of the child to pull 
himself to an erect position, and Miss Shinn and others 
have observed and described the climbing stage. 

It seems probable that climbing is a genuine instinct, 
dating back to the time when men lived in trees, and 
when strength of arm and grasp were essential for life. 
But in babies the instinct is so promptly repressed by 
fearful mothers, and so impeded by the baby's clothes, 
as is also his creeping, that the discouraged child turns to 
some substitute instead of delighting in it as Miss Shinn's 
niece did. Such repression must be a hindrance to the 
development of the child's lungs and back, and therefore 
must work direct harm to his health. It is doubtless 



348 The Child 

often difficult for the mother to give the necessary super- 
vision to the climbing if it is allowed, but it can be done 
more frequently than it is, and should be planned for as 
far as possible. 

When not repressed, climbing begins at about the 
same time as creeping, and is shown in the baby's attempts 
to climb over the person holding him, to climb into 
chairs and on to beds and table, and above all by his 
insatiate desire to creep up and down stairs. In the 
mounting process there is really little danger, if the 
thing he is climbing be solid, for his grasp is very strong; 
but in descending, the baby is likely to come head first 
like any animal that goes on all fours, and not being 
properly proportioned for such a form of movement, he 
falls. If a mother can be hard-hearted enough to let 
him get a few bumps, he soon learns to come down back- 
wards, and then most of his dangers are over. 

Although the desire to climb lessens somewhat after 
the baby has learned to walk, it is strong all through 
childhood, as is seen in the love that all children have for 
climbing trees, houses, and so on. 

Even before the baby has begun to creep, we have 
seen that he is getting exercises preparatory to walking 
in his alternate kickings, in the steady pres- 
*°^ sure of his feet against opposing objects, 

and in the various half -standing positions that he assumes 
when held in the lap or supported on the floor. He enjoys 
these exercises, but still he shows no desire to assume the 
erect position when left to himself, until he has been creep- 
ing for some time. Mrs. Hall notes that in the thirty- 
eighth week her boy pulled himself to his feet by the aid 
of a finger, and stood for a minute; in the forty-eighth 
week he pulled himself to a chair and stood for five min- 
utes, holding on with one hand and playing with the 



Impulsive, Reflex, ami Instinctive Movements 349 

other, and two weeks later he stood so for half an hour. 
Preyer's and Miss Shinn's records correspond very 
closely with this, but all note that the baby does not 
feel very secure on his feet as yet. Demme's records 
show that vigorous children usually stand alone between 
the fortieth and forty-second weeks; moderately strong 
ones between the forty-fifth and forty-eighth weeks; and 
weakly ones about the twelfth month. Trettien says that 
the first standing alone may come at any time between 
the seventh and sixteenth months, and the first walking 
alone between the tenth month and the second year. 

By the time that the child has become accustomed to 
stand alone, he has usually been given some lessons 
in walking and has been shown how to push a chair 
ahead of him. A baby will at first support himself by 
the wall or by the furniture in going for what he wants, 
but for a long time will drop down to creep when he comes 
to an open space. He can often walk well when sup- 
ported by one finger, and alone when he thinks he is sup- 
ported, for some time before he will walk alone if he 
knows it. With most children there is a fear of falling 
that hinders their walking. 

Their self-consciousness is shown in very amusing ways. 
One little girl who had always held on to her mother's 
dress while walking, one day seized the scallops of her 
own skirt and walked bravely off, performing a feat 
closely analogous to the famous one of Self-con- 
raising oneself by one's bootstraps. Pro- sciousness 
fessor Hall's daughter chanced to walk alone * factor 
for the first time when she had a pair of her father's cuffs 
slipped over her arms, and for several days she could walk 
very well with them on, but would not stir a step without 
them. When a child is not being constantly urged to walk, 
it is not infrequent for him to take his first independent 
23 



35o The Child 

steps without knowing it, in his eagerness to get some- 
thing that he wants. But as soon as he reaUzes that 
he is going alone, while he may be very proud of himself, 
he promptly falls, and may not try again for some days 
or even weeks. Then suddenly he walks alone again, and 
each day makes large gains, until, in a week or so, walking 
is preferred to any other mode of locomotion. 

The date when walking becomes well established 
varies greatly. Preyer puts it in the sixty-eighth week 

When walk- ^°'" ^^^ ^°^ ' ^^^- ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ sixty-sixth for 
ing is hers, and others at various times between the 

established x,^q\{^)^ and thirtieth or even thirty-sixth 
months. Where there are a number of children in the 
family, walking will be learned sooner, and of course a 
child can be taught to walk sooner than he will if left to 
himself. This is not a wise thing, however, unless the 
child is three or four years old, for a healthy child usually 
wants to walk as soon as his muscles and bones are strong 
enough to bear his weight. If he walks too soon, he 
is likely to be bow-legged or knock-kneed. If, on the 
other hand, a child has not learned to walk by the time 
he is three and a half or four years old, a physician should 
be consulted. 

It is interesting to notice that when children first begin 
to walk alone they want some object in their hands as 
they walk. Is it partly because they derive some feeling 
of support from it, and partly because they feel the lack 
of the constant stimulation of the palms that they had 
when creeping? 

The first walk is very unsteady; not infrequently it 
is more a run, a trot, or a waddle than a walk, and it is 
usually pigeon-toed. Nevertheless, undignified though 
it be, it opens to a child a new world both of vision and of 
movement. He gets new views of things when standing 



Impulsive, Reflex, and Instinctive Movements 351 

— views which are to persist through life; the freedom of 
his hand allows his handling and fingering of objects to go 
on at the same time that he is walking ; and the exercise of 
his legs leads to marked changes in the bodily development. 
His appetite increases, his hours of sleep lengthen, and his 
general health improves, especially if he is a sickly child. 
His disposition is likely to become more amiable. 

In describing these stages in locomotion we have pro- 
ceeded as if the growth were continuous, but as a matter 
of fact it is not. Some movement will Rhythms of 
appear, be practiced for a day or two, and growth 
then be neglected for several weeks or even months. 
Then suddenly it will reappear and be practiced dili- 
gently until it is learned. Walking is likely to be inter- 
rupted by the beginning of speech, and vice versa, so 
that the two processes of learning to walk and of learning 
to speak, which stretch over several months, have periods 
of waxing and of waning. 

The relation between the age of walking and talking 
and general intelligence has been studied by C. D. Mead 
upon fwenty-five normal boys and twenty-five normal 
girls, and one hundred and forty-four "schoolable" 
feeble-minded children. He defines "walking" as taking 
a step unassisted, and "talking" as using a word intelli- 
gently, that is, associating the idea with the object. The 
median normal child begins to walk at 13.54 months, 
and to talk at 15.8 months. In walking, the range of 
variation is from eleven to thirty months with 90 per cent 
of the cases between eleven and seventeen months. In 
talking, the range is from nine to twenty-five months with 
90 per cent between ten and twenty-one. In both cases, 
as well as with the sub-normal children, the girls learn at 
an earlier age than the boys. 

The median feeble-minded child begins to walk at 21.6 



352 The Child 

months, with the extremes at twelve and seventy-two, and 
90 per cent between thirteen and fifty. He does not begin 
to talk until 34.4 months, with the range between twelve 
and one hundred and fifty-six months (but only one case 
above one hundred and eight months). Ninety per cent 
of the cases are between fourteen and eighty-four months. 

These returns are extremely significant if they are 
representative, as indicating that the limits of normality 
in learning to walk and talk are not as great as was for- 
merly supposed. They are still more emphasized by 
data quoted from Ireland and Tredgold on idiots, showing 
that the development is still later in this class of defectives. 

The sexual instinct has already been discussed in a 
previous chapter, and hence will only be mentioned 
Sexual here. Closely connected with the instinct 

instinct of sex is the parental instinct, which seems 

also to be the center of a large group of acts which are 
not commonly considered instinctive. We can hardly 
Parental question that the care of the helpless young 

instinct js instinctive, but we do not usually look 

upon teaching and philanthropy in all its forms as instinc- 
tive. What we know of social evolution, however, seems 
to point to the fact that altruistic activities in general 
have been the outgrowth of the instinct to care for help- 
less children. The original instinct has become so covered, 
so varied, and so modified in its expressions, that it seems 
a misuse of terms to call philanthropy instinctive; and 
yet, within the genuine philanthropist there is some 
impelling fcrce that cannot be turned aside by reasons 
or difficulties or even his own willing. He springs to 
relieve the suffering even of the most worthless, as the 
mother springs to snatch her child from danger. 

From this standpoint, Mr. Phillips's investigations 
as to the existence of a teaching instinct do not seem 



Impulsive, Reflex, and Instinctive Movements 353 

unreasonable. He found that girls play dolls and teacher 
far more than boys do. Out of one hundred and five 
teachers, fifty-one had desired from childhood to follow 
.that profession; seventeen wanted to at the age of 
twenty-three; twenty-four were forced to teach, but 
soon grew to love the work; and only four heartily dis- 
liked it. He concludes that teaching is probably a special 
form of the parental instinct, manifesting itself, as that 
instinct does, more strongly in women than in men. 

Besides the instinctive movements already described, 
on which most writers are agreed, there are numerous 
other groups of movements which one or a other 
few writers class as instinctive. Among possible 
these are the migrating instinct, which ap- mstmcts 
pears in the desire that most children have to run away; 
the hunting instinct; the burrowing instinct, appearing 
in fondness for cave making; the swimming instinct; 
the tent-living instinct; the collecting instinct or the 
instinct for property. Most children show these ten- 
dencies at some time in their development, and it seems 
probable that they are genuine survivals of ancestral 
traits. They are less definite in their form than the 
movements we have been discussing, and so lend them- 
selves with especial ease to modification and are the 
basis of education in the form of natural interests. (The 
chapter on Nature versus Nurture discusses them.) 
Still other acts often classed as instinctive are the expres- 
sions of the instinctive emotions — laughing and crying, 
the expressions of fear, anger, and so on, which have 
already been considered, and finally we have such things 
as language, imitation, play, constructiveness, workman- 
ship, classed as instinctive at bottom. The separation of 
the learned from the unlearned factors, and a clear descrip- 
tion of the latter, would be of much value to education. 



354 The C hild 

REFERENCES 

Bernhardt, W. Natural Impulses. Am. Nat., 1897, Vol. XXXI, 

582-587. 
Black, J. W. Savagery and Survivals. Pop. Sc. Mo., Vol. XLV, 

388-400. 
Brooks, W. K. Study of Inheritance. Pop. Sc. Mo., Vol. XLVIII, 

480-491, 617-625. 
Bryan, E. B. Nascent Stages and Their Significance. Ped. 

Sent., 1900, Vol. VII, 357-396. 
Buckmann, S. S. Babies and Monkeys. Nineteenth Cent., Vol. 

XXXVI, 727-743- 
Compayre, G. Development oj the Child in Later Infancy. Chapter 

IV. Appleton, N. Y. $1.20. 
Darwin, C. Biographical Sketch of an Infant. Pop. Sc. Mo., 

Vol. LVII, 197-205. 
Ellis, Havelock. Analysis of the Sexual Impulse. Alien, and 

Neur., 1900, Vol. XXI, 247-262. 
Emmons, B. E. Humane Instincts of Children. Jour, of Ped., 

1900, Vol. XIII, 110-116. 
Groos, K. The Play of Man. See Index. Appleton, N. Y. $1.50. 
Hall, Mrs. W. S. First Five Hundred Days of a Child's Life. 

C. S. M., Vol. II. See Index. 
McMillan, Margaret. Early Childhood, 27-47. Bardeen, Syracuse. 

$1.50. 
Marshall, H. R. Instinct and Reason. Macmillan, N. Y. 574 pp. 

$3-50. 
Mead, C. D. Walking and Talking in Relation to General Intelli- 
gence. Ped. Sem., Dec. 1913, 460-48. 
Mezes, S. G. Essential Differences between Man and Other 

Animals. Texas Acad, of Sc, 1898, 23-27. 
Mills, W., et al. Instinct. Science, N. S.,. 1896, Vols. Ill and 

IV^ 
Moore, Mrs. Kathleen Carter. Mental Development of a Child. 

Psy. Rev., Monog. Sup. No. 3, 1896. 
Morgan, C. L. Swimming Instinct. Nature, 1901, Vol. LXIV, 208. 

lustitict and Experience. Methuen, Lond., 1912, 299 pp. 
Oppenheim, N. Mental Growth and Control. Chapter V. Macmil- 
lan, N. Y. $1.25. 
Preyer, W. Senses and Will. Chapters on Impulsive, Reflex, and 

Instinctive Movements. Appleton, N. Y. $1.50. 



Impulsive, Reflex, and Instinctive Movements 355 

Rcid, G. A. Prehensile Power of the Hands of the Human Infant. 

Lancet, 1897, 1077. 
Robinson, L. Primitive Child. iV. ^w. i?ei;., Vol. CLIX, 467-478. 
Rowe, S. H. Physical Nature of the Child. Chapters II and XL 

Macmillan, N. Y. $1.00. 
Scripture, E. W. Arousal of an Instinct by Taste Only. Science, 

N. S., 1899, Vol. IX, 878. 
Shinn, Millicent W. Biography of a Baby. Houghton, Mifflin, 

Boston. $1.50. 
Swift, E. J. Heredity and Environment. Proc. N. E. A., 1898, 

910-916; Am. Phys. Ed. Rev., 1898; N. W. Mo., 1898, 36-41. 
Taylor, A. R. Study of the Child, 93-105. Appleton, N. Y. 

$1.25. 
Tracy, B. Psychology of Childhood. Chapter on Movements. 

Heath, Boston. $0.90. 
Trettien, A. W. Creeping and Walking. Am. Jour. Psy., 1900, 

Vol. XII, 1-57. 
Worthington, S. M. Inheritance of Mutilations, etc. Med. Rev., 

1897. 
Wundt, W. Human and A nimal Psychology. 

See also the individual studies and general books of reference. 



CHAPTER XV 

Growth in Control of the Body 

1. To observe the increase in control of the muscles, 
compare children two, four, eight, and fourteen years 
Observa- old. Note the difference in ability to move 
tions lY^Q fingers separately, either horizontally or 
up and down, to stand still on tiptoe, and to thread a needle. 

2. Have children of different ages sort out colors, and 
note the differences in accuracy. 

3. Have them tap a finger regularly, as long as they 
can, and note the differences in regularity and in length 
of time. In all these the fourteen-year-old child will 
probably be little, if at all, superior to the eight-year-old. 

4. Notice whether the brightest children of your 
acquaintance are the quickest and the most accurate in 
their movements. 

5. Provide your children with simple tools, needles, 
etc., of their own, and encourage them to make their 
own toys, playhouses, etc., as well as articles for use 
about the house. Show them how to use the tools, 
and see that they complete whatever they begin. 

6. If you are observing one child systematically, 
give the tests mentioned in (i) at regular intervals, and 
take pictures if possible. 

Leaving now the exclusively physiological side of 
the subject, we shall consider how a child learns to use 
Introduc- his body, and how much he improves from 
^•0" babyhood to youth. In many parts of our 

country a revival of all sorts of hand work is shown by 
classes in lace making, spinning and weaving, carpentry, 

356 



Growth in Control of the Body 357 

basketry, and so on. While there may be more or less of 
the fad in this, it is nevertheless very suggestive to the 
sociologist and to the educator, because it indicates a 
feeling of the value of "handiness." 

Whether we look at the matter historically or logic- 
ally, we can see that in the end our civilization depends 
upon our ability to control our bodies, especially our 
hands. Withovit such ability, neither literature nor ma- 
chinery nor any other expression of thought is possible, 
and it is still an open question how much the power of 
thought itself is dependent for growth upon an organ 
that is adaptable, like the lips and hands, and how far 
it has created the organ by use. It is therefore valuable 
to study how the baby learns to use that wonderful 
organ of the mind, his body, and especially how both 
child and adult learn to use their hands. 

At birth a child has no power to make voluntary 
movements of any sort. When an arm or a leg moves, 
when his eyes close at a bright hght, or j.^^ baby's 
when he starts at a loud sound, the move- control of 
ment is a total surprise to him, something ^^ 

that he can neither prevent nor repeat. He gets, at 
the most, vague feelings, without any knowledge of 
their cause or connection with each other, or with other 
feelings, and he does not as yet know the difference 
between feelings arising from his own- movements and 
those due to outside stimuli, such as light and sounds. 

But these vague feelings become more distinct by 
repetition, and as the connective fibers within the baby's 
brain grow, the various feelings become associated with 
one another. The eye sees the aimless movements of 
the hand, and, after many accidental successes, is able 
to guide the hand to the mouth. The first accidental 
grasping of the breast in the aimless groping of the hand 



358 T It e C hi Id 

gives a basis of feeling for the intentional reaching when 
the baby is hungry. 

The wonderful change in a baby that usually occurs 
about the sixth month of his life is due very largely to 
his discovery that he can move himself this way or that 
as he pleases, and can direct his movements by his eyes. 

In the last chapter we traced the gradual increase in the 
power to control the trunk and larger muscles of the body, 
in holding up the head, sitting erect, rolling, creeping 
walking, and grasping and holding. The smaller muscles 
of the face are also controlled to a large degree in feeding, 
talking, and in the various expressions of the emotions, 
though the connection with instinctive movement is 
very close here and it is difficult to know when the transi- 
tion from instinctive to voluntary movement occurs. 

Growth in muscular control depends not only upon the 
normal development of the muscular system but equally 
Neuro- upon that of the nervous system. So close 

muscular is the relation between the two that under 
sys em ^-^^ name of ncuro-muscular system they are 

frequently considered together. Again, mental develop- 
ment is closely bound up with nervous and motor develop- 
ment, for the material of knowledge, sensation, cannot 
be acquired to any great degree without movement, 
even when the sense, organs themselves are perfect. An 
immobile eye oi hand would lose a large part of its 
use, and, in the course of time, of its sensitiveness as 
well. The question of growth in motor control and its 
value and significance for mental development is there- 
fore an important one, and various tests have been made 
to show the improvement with age. 

First with regard merely to increase in the muscles, 
we should note that the various muscular systems do 
not all grow equally together, but sometimes one and 



Growth in Control of the Body 359 

sometimes another is more prominent. Thus Tyler tells 
us that at about four years of age the legs are growing more 
rapidly than the other muscles, and Hall says that in the 
adolescent growth leg growth comes first, then biceps and 
back, and later still foreami. Puberty is a period of rapid 
increase m strength as well as of rapid growth. 

To what degree should there be systematic physical 
training of the little child? A baby, as we have already 
seen, is indefatigable in exercise if he is General 

healthy, and if he is not trammeled by clothes body 

or by his mother's fears he is likely to get control 

an all round development. We know, however, that 
both a baby's strength and dexterity can be greatly 
increased if the parents put him through regular exercises, 
but whether such work is necessary or even desirable is a 
question, unless the child is evidently weak in some direc- 
tion. After he can walk he acquires by degrees various 
refinements of walking — jumping, hopping, balancing — 
and in climbing still other forms of control are established. 
Rather than formal training, we should advise that the 
childish activities of play and imitation be such as to 
use all parts of the body spontaneously. By the kinder- 
garten age rhythmic movements are enjoyed, though 
in very different degrees by different children, and rhyth- 
mic plays and exercises become important educational 
agencies. They shade over by degrees to dancing, which 
Dr. Hall considers one of the most valuable forms of 
training that we possess. 

Dancing in this broad sense includes all emotion and 
thought expressed in rhythmic motion. It demands 
control of all the larger muscles of the body, and expresses 
the whole self better than anything else. It again shades 
over into the dramatic art with all its educational possi- 
bilities. Both these forms of exercise have so many 



360 The Child 

social and intellectual aspects that we shall reserve 
discussion of them for other chapters. In general, we may 
say that the child acquires the increasing control of his 
body through his spontaneous play far more than through 
any other agency. His toys are a large factor here. 

On the side of formal education the control of the hand 
is the most important single factor. The significance 
Evolution °^ ^^*^ hand in the evolution of man can 
of the hardly be overstated. McDougall tells us 

^° that the hand has, in phylogenetic history, 

been successively used for locomotion, support, suspen- 
sion, and at length for manipulation. Siace man has 
learned to walk erect and the hand has been freed from 
its work of locomotion, few structural changes have 
occurred, but great functional changes. In order to 
become a real hand, it must lose its hair, so that the sense 
of touch may become delicate. The skin must become 
thinner, so that more delicate stimuli may be felt, and 
the claw or hoof must give way to the short nail, so that 
the tips of the fingers may be used. Again, the fingers 
have become longer, especially the last joint, probably 
the bands of muscles crossing the phalanges have become 
narrower, so that the fingers move more freely and 
independently of each other; the thumb especially becomes 
opposed to the other digits, and the connections of hand 
with brain become more complex. 

We have already seen how the child's power to grasp 
develops. Let us summarize briefly the various investiga- 
Growth tions on other forms of hand or finger control, 

of finger The power of hand grip is closely correlated 

^°° ^° with mental vigor. Between eleven and six- 

teen both boys and girls nearly double their dynamometer 
grip, and there seems to be a parallelism between the 
increase in the grip and the increase in weight. 



Growth in Control oj the Body 361 

Tests for the greatest number of taps in a given time 
show, according to Bryan's returns, a steady increase 
from six years to sixteen for boys, with a lowering at 
fourteen for girls and a later rise. Gilbert found a 
similar decline at twelve for both boys and girls, while 
in the Chicago tests the greatest improvement for boys 
occurred in the thirteenth year and for girls in the tenth, 
thirteenth, and fifteenth years. Bolton found that in 
general the children bright intellectually could improve 
most and resist fatigue best in tapping tests. 

Tests for accuracy of finger movements, though of 
very different kinds, all seem to indicate that from about 
five years of age on, for two or three years, there is a 
marked improvement in accuracy, while at puberty 
there is little or no gain, and sometimes deterioration. 
Tests for discriminating weights, however, show maximum 
correctness of judgment at thirteen with girls and at 
fourteen with boys. 

Power to resist fatigue, measured by the ergograph, 
seems to improve rather steadily from six to twelve; 
then there is a sudden acceleration for two or three 
years, and later a relative decline. 

These data, meager indeed when we consider the 
importance of hand control to the individual, show us 
little of educational importance, except possibly that 
about six and thereafter we can safely allow the child 
to undertake tasks that we could not before. We still 
have unsettled the important questions of when to begin 
writing, the place of manual and industrial training, 
of drawing and plastic art, of domestic economy. How 
much hand control should a child have when he enters 
school? We cannot say definitely. We know that under 
the Montessori method four- and five-year-old children 
can do everything involved in dressing and undressing 



362 The Child 

(if the clothing unfastens in front), can carry a soup 
plate without spilling the soup, can trace the insets and 
sandpaper letters, and in many cases can write without 
following copy. Kindergarten children do paper weaving, 
string coarse beads, outline drawings with a coarse needle 
and wool. Children are able to handle a fork and spoon 
tolerably well, to cut with scissors, and so on. 

The possibilities here are always bound up too with 
the possible strain on the eyes. How closely ability to 
make fine movements is correlated with visual ability to 
follow those movements we do not know. Whether 
small children perform all the acts above referred to 
without overfatigue is still a matter of question. For 
some time educators have been saying that writing 
should not be learned before the child is eight or nine 
years old, because it requires the use of delicate muscles 
over which a little child cannot exercise control without 
too great nervous strain. The Montessori system, how- 
ever, does not seem to fatigue the children. Perhaps we 
need here to define more closely what is meant by writ- 
ing. Under the old method, by which the child was 
required to use a ruled sheet and to write in small char- 
acters, the strain was much greater than when he uses 
free movements, and writes very large, without a line. It 
is difficult to see why, in the latter case, there is any more 
strain than in his free drawing. We very much need some 
careful observations of children from kindergarten age to 
adolescence, in order to find out what hand activities they 
indulge in spontaneously at different ages. 

Turning from the consideration of age, however, there 
is no question of the value of manual work in all its 
forms, but this value differs greatly. We can only touch 
upon these variations briefly. A subject has educative 
value in proportion as it performs many functions in 



Growth in Control of the Body 363 

one. Our curriculum is too crowded to allow of training 
each part of the child by itself, and even if wc could, 
life demands complete functioning rather than abstract 
activity. The earlier systems of manual training which 
are still in use in many places, erred in making manual 
skill nearly the whole consideration. They taught the 
boy or girl no trade, made few or no useful things or 
toys, but drilled on making square joints, using the tools 
well, and little else. Also they paid little attention to 
teaching the pupils hygienic positions in using the tools, 
they strained the eyes, and had other bad physical effects. 

The tendency now is, to a large degree, to- replace 
this work by various fomis of industrial training and 
domestic science. Such work has the advantage of 
preparing the pupils for a specific trade, and thus satisfy- 
ing pressing economic needs both for the child and the 
community. The training varies greatly in different 
places. It is probably most developed in Munich, where 
nearly every trade is taught. The half-time system, in 
which a boy works in the shop a half day or a week, 
and spends the other half day or week in school, two 
boys "spelling" each other, has met with great success 
in some places. 

Such industrial training, however, can hardly be 
taught below the grammar grades, and there is still the 
question of what preparation shall be given for it in the 
elementary school work. In general, the plan which 
was followed under Dr. Dewey's guidance in the School 
of Education seems to justify itself best. It is, in brief, 
that in these years the school should offer in carefully 
chosen forms the typical activities of man, so that by 
degrees the children shall come to an understanding of 
the life about them. These activities focus about getting 
food, clothing, and shelter — cooking, spinning, weaving 



364 The Child 

and sewing, carpentry, and their various modifications. 
The making and furnishing of a doll's house, clothing 
the dolls, and other occupations offer numerous possi- 
bilities for the younger children. For the older, the 
activities need to be on a larger scale, preparing some of 
their own meals and clothing, or making a playhouse 
for themselves. Every normal child loves such activi- 
ties, and they are the natural centers from which, through 
his social nature, he works out to an interest in natural 
science and in other people and other times. The in- 
stinct of imitation leads him to play at house, at hunt- 
ing, at dressmaking, reproducing in miniature the life 
about him. Thence he is led to question what people 
did for clothes when they had no needles, how they 
killed animals when they had no guns, and so on. 

But, and here we connect with hand work again, when 
a child thus begins to question how a certain people 
lived or how a certain food is obtained or how a certain 
machine runs, the best understanding is obtained by 
his living the life, preparing the food, or making the 
machine; and the association fibers of the brain are 
most rapidly developed by this activity. A child has 
but a small store of memories to fall back upon and 
cannot construct in imagination with any accuracy such 
a process as weaving, even of the simplest kind. He must, 
at least in a crude fonn, go through the essential parts 
of the process himself before he can have the feelings 
and motor associations necessary for understanding it. 
Still more, by doing it himself he is able to enter into 
the feelings and thoughts of the weaver. By planting 
and raising wheat, he not only understands fanning 
better, but also the farmer. He is broadening his 
sympathies, for the basis of all sympathy is ability to 
put oneself in another's place, and we cannot do this 



Growth in Control of the Body 365 

unless we have had the same experiences as he. This 
strong plea can therefore be made for hand work in our 
schools — that it will do away with the foolish notion 
that the trades are of less worth than the professions, 
and will train children to a genuine sympathy with all 
workers, thus leveling the artificial distinctions of our 
social life and helping to solve our labor problems. 

Finally, on the side of action, only the actual doing of 
a thing will develop the skill, accuracy, and Importance 
patience which are essential in the attain- °* action 
ment of first rank in any profession. 

From all sides it seems, therefore, that the expres- 
sion in sensory form of any valuable thought is neces- 
sary for the complete understanding of the thought as 
well as for the broadening and strengthening of the feel- 
ings and of the will. Accordingly, we would make an 
earnest plea to parents and teachers to do their utmost 
to give the children in their charge every opportunity 
to express their ideas. This does not require the intro- 
duction of expensive outfits in cooking, manual training, 
and so on, so much as it does ingenuity in using the 
materials at hand. Wonders can be done with a hammer, 
saw, and jackknife, with an old stove and a few tin 
pans, with a doll and some pieces of cloth, with weeds, 
pliable twigs, and tough grasses, with sand, mud, and 
clay. All these things are at hand for nearly every one. 
The important thing is that the children shall become 
accustomed to expressing their ideas. 

From the side of vocational guidance such work is 
also of great value, for it reveals the individual interests 
and abilities of children to a wonderful , 

degree, and from the side of efficiency it 
is probably more valuable still. The business world 
has been greatly startled of late by the studies of 



366 The Child 

Gilbreth, Emerson, Taylor, and others, which have shown 
the great industrial wastes of our present systems. 
These come in various plaees — in bad office systems, 
bad bookkeeping, bad systems of letter and information 
files — but quite as much in wastes in the movements 
necessary for doing a piece of work. Studies of the 
movements made in brick laying, for instance, showed 
that nearly half of them were unnecessary, and that by 
having the bricks on an elevation so that they could be 
taken without stooping, a large amount of the brick 
layer's time could be saved. The net resiilt under the 
efficient system was that he did three times the work 
that he did before. Similar enormous gains were made 
in coal shoveling, loading pig iron, and in other forms 
of work. 

To the psychologist the significant fact here is that 
the workmen who had been in such work for years had 
never observed the waste, and that a large proportion of 
them could never be trusted to stick to the better way. 
While certain social factors contributed to this unwilling- 
ness, another factor probably is that the efficient system 
demands more constant attention than does the old one. 

If, now, the school is to be of assistance in giving- 
hand control, surely it can do some of its best work in 
teaching children to make all their movements efficient. 
There are wasteful and effective ways of holding a 
book, using a pencil, erasing a blackboard; of walking, 
sitting, standing; of driving a nail, sawing a stick, bor- 
ing a hole. Housework offers no end of opportunities 
for "making one's head save one's heels," and each one 
should be utilized. Many of these ways are easy to be 
seen even by children, if once they are alert for them, 
and the gain in the course of a year is far greater than 
most of us realize. 



Growth in Control of the Body 367 

REFERENCES 

Anderson, William S. Studies in the Eflcet of Physical Training. 

Am. Phys. Ed. Rev., Vol. IV, 1899, 265-278. 
Ballard, P. B. Handwork as Educational Medium. Sonnenschein, 

Lend., 1910, 194 pp. Essay i, i-iii. 
Berry, T. W. Pedagogy of Educational Handicraft. Blackie, Lond., 

1909, 100 pp. 

Bibliography on Industrial Education. Bull. No. 2 of Nat. Soc. for 

Promotion of hid. Ed., July 1907, 32 pp. 
Bibliography of Physical Training. English Titles, 1905-I1. 

Phys. Dir. Soc, Y. M. C. A., 1912, 172 pp. $1.00. 
Bogardus, E. S. Fatigue and Industrial Accidents. Am. Jour. 

Soc, 1912, Vol. XVII, 512-539. 
Bolton, T. L. Relation of Motor Power to Intelligence. Am. 

Jour. Psy., July 1903, 351-367- 
Book, W. F. The Psychology of Skill. U. of Montana Pub., 1908, 

Vol. VI, No. I. 
Burk, F. L. From Fundamental to Accessory. Ped. Sent., Oct. 

1898, 5-64. 
Burnham, W. H. Hygiene of Physical Training. Am. Phys. Ed. 

Rev., 1909-10, Vols. XIV and XV. Series of Articles. Bibliog. 
Busser, R. C. German System of Industrial Schooling. Phila. 

Pub. Ed. Assn., 1913, 63 pp. 
Carlton, Frank T. Education and Industrial Evolutioft. Mac- 

millan, 1908, 320 pp. 
Chambers, Will G. Motor Activity in Primary Education. Jour. 

of Ped., 1905-6, 166-184. 
Crichton-Brown, James. Growth: Somatic and Cerebral. Child 

Study, 191 1, 77-92; Child, 191 1, 2, I-16. 
Crile, G. W. Phylogenetic Association. Bos. Med. Surg. Jour., 

1910, 893. 

Dearborn, G. V. M. Attention . . . and Physical Education. 
Am. Phys. Ed. Rev., 191 1, 26-40; 125-143; 186-199. 
Physiology of Self Control. Mind and Body, June, 1912. 
Moto-Sensory Development. Warwick and York, 1910, 212 pp. 
Dopp, Katharine E. Place of Industries in Elementary Education. 
U. of Chicago Press, 1903, 208 pp. 
Industrial and Social History Series. Rand McNally and Co., 
Chicago. (Readers for children summarizing in story form 
the history of man, with suggestions to the teacher for hand 



368 The Child 

work, etc. Those now published are The Tree-Dwellers; 

Early Cave-Men; Later Cave-Men; Early Sea People. 

Valuable.) 
Emerson, Harrington. Efficiency. Engineering Mag. N. Y., 1912, 

224 pp. 
Twelve I rinciples of Efficiency. Engineering Mag. N. Y., 

1912, 423 pp. 
F6t6, Ch. Le main, la prehension et le toucher. Rev. Phil., 1896, 

621-636. 
Gesell. Normal Child and Primary Education. Section on the Hand. 
Gilbreth, F. B. Motion Study. Van Noste and Co., N. Y., 1911, 

116 pp. 
Gulick, Luther. Physical Education by Aluscular Exercise. 

Blakiston, Phila., 1904, 67 pp. 
Hall, G. Stanley. Adolescence and Youth. See Index. 
Hancock, J. A. Motor Ability. Ped. Sent., Oct. 1899, 9-29; 

also Am. Jour. Psy., Oct. 1895, 308-313. 
Harvey, L. D. Manual Training in Grades. Proc. N. E. A., 1905, 

121-134. 
Hewitt, T. H. Handicraft as Factor in Mental Evolution. Child 

Study, 1909, 83-92. 
Hylan, J. P. Apperceptive Basis of Manual Training. Ed., 1906, 

324-341- 
Johnson, W. Smythe. Experiments on Motor Education. Studies 

from the Yale Psy. Lab., 1902, Vol. X, 81. 
Kent, E. B. Constructive Interests of Children. Colo. U. Studies, 

1903, 79 PP- 

Kerschensteiner, Georg. Continuation Schools. Sch. Rev., Mar. 

and Apr. 191 1. 
Three Lectures on Vocational Training. Chicago Commercial 

Club, 191 1, 52 pp. 
Trade Continuation Schools of Munich. Nat. Soc. Prom. Ind. 

Ed., 68 pp. 
Lancaster, E. G. Warming Up. Colorado Psy. Studies, No. 7, 1898, 

16-29. 
McDougall, Robert. Significance of the Human Hand. Am. Jour. 

Psy., Apr. 1905, 232-242; Pop. Sc. Mo., Sept. 1904. 
McKenzie, R. T. Exercise in Education and Medicine. U. of 

Pennsylvania, Phila., 1909, 393 pp. 
Major, David R. First Steps in Mental Growth. Macmillan, 1906, 

360 pp. Sections on Hand and Drawing. 



G r OIL' t h in Control of the Body 369 

Mead, Geo. H., et at. Report on Vocational Training. City Club 

of Chicago, 1912, 315 pp. 
Meyer, Max. Fundamental Laws of Human Behavior, igio. 
Moore, Mrs. K. C. Development of Movements. Fed. Sent., 

June 1901, 231-238. 
Mosso, A. Psychic Processes and Muscular Exercise. Clark 

Univ. Pub., Dec. 1899, 383-395. 
Munsterberg, Hugo. Psychology and Industrial Efficiency. 

Houghton, Mifflin, 19 13, 320 pp. 
Newton, R. C. Reawakening of the Physical Conscience. Pop. 

Sc. Mo., 1907, 156-164. 
Orr, Wm. Physical Training in the High School. Ed. Rev., 1906, 

42-55- 
Person, H. S. Industrial Education. Houghton, Mifflin, 1907, 

86 pp. 
Physical Education and Improvement. Reports of National League 

for London. 
Rathmann, C. G. Mission of Manual Training. Washington 

Univ., St. Louis, 1909, 23 pp. 
Row, Robert K. Educational Meaning of Manual A rts and Indus- 
tries. Row, Peterson & Co., Chicago, 1909, 248 pp. 
Russell and Bowser. Industrial Education. Teachers College, 

Columbia University Pub., 191 3, 50 pp. $0.65 or $0.30. 
Rutgers, Henry A. Psychology of Efficiency. Woodworth's Arch. 

of Psy., June, 1910, 88 pp. 
Sargent, D. A. Physical Education. Ginn, 1906, 311 pp. 
Sargent, Walter. Fine and Industrial Arts in Elementary Schools. 

Ginn, 1912, 132 pp. 
Selden, F. H. Manual Training. Am. Sch. Bd. Jour., 1910, 69 pp. 
Shepardson, Ed. Critique of Doctrine of Fundamental and Acces- 
sory Movements. Ped. Sem., 1907, 101-116. Bibliog. 
Smith, Theodate L., and Brown, Emily F. On the Education of 

Muscular Power and Control. Studies from the Yale Psy. 

Lab., 1894, Vol. II, 114. 
Snedden, D. S. Industrial Education. Man. Tr. Mag., Oct. 

1908, 1-30. 
Swift, E. J. Psychology and Physiology of Learning. Am. Jour. 

Psy., Vol. XIV, 1903, 201-222. 
Taylor, F. W. Principles of Scientific Management. Harper, 191 1. 
Tyler, John M. Growth and Education. Houghton, Mifflin, 1907, 

294 pp. 



370 The Child 

Watson, J. B. Behavior Monographs. Cambridge, Mass., 191 1. 

Vol. I. 
Wells, F. L. Tapping Tests. Am. Jour. Psy., 1908, 345-358; 437 

483; 1909, 38-59 and 353-363- 
Woodworth, R. S. Accuracy of Voluntary Movement. Macmillan, 

1899, 114 pp. 
Wright, W. R. Some Effects of Incentives on Work and Fatigue. 

Psy. Rev., 1906, 23-34. 
For current articles on all phases of physical work and training, 
sports, etc., see the American Physical Education Review, edited by 
Dr. J. H. McCurdy, Springfield^ Mass. $3.00. (Excellent also 
for bibliographies in English.) 



CHAPTER XVI 

Imitation and .Suggestion 

1. Keep a dated record of some child's imitations 
during the first year. Note : 

(i) Their character. Compare the movements with 
reflex and instinctive movements. Observa- 

(2) Their relation to walking and talking. t*o"s 

Do they precede these or not? If not, is 
there a period of rest in the walking and talk- 
ing when they begin? 

2. Keep a similar record of some child between two 
and seven years of age, or get observations on a number 
of children, following Miss Frear's plan as given in 
this chapter. 

3. Try Mr. Small's experiment, or a similar one. 
This is very easily done in any room where there is 
gas or a coal stove by pretending to smell the gas, or 
with other materials by pretending that meat is a little 
tainted, or milk a little sour, or butter a little strong. 

James says that "all consciousness is motor." To 
understand better what this quotation means, let us 
turn to the development of the nervous «,^jj ^^j^, 
system. We find here, that, in general, the sciousness 
men with the greatest mental activity are *^ ™° °^ 
men with the best developed nervous system; and that 
this is true all the way down the scale of life. The 
animal with little or no nervous system, like the oyster 
or the clam, has little mental activity. We find also that 
uniformly in the nervous system there is a connection 

371 



372 The C h i I d 

between those brain cells that receive a stimulus and 
those that send messages out to the muscles of the 
body, so that every impression received tends to call 
out some muscular response; in other words, "All con- 
sciousness is motor." Every idea, even, is reflected in 
the muscular system and so makes some change in the 
body. This is shown in a multitude of ways. 

1. Professor Mosso has made careful experiments to 
find out what is the effect upon the body of stimulations 
that arouse emotions, and also to discover the bodily 
changes caused by changing ideas. He found that when 
various substances were put into the mouth or when 
the skin was touched or the eye stimulated, there was 
always some corresponding change in the circulation and 
respiration. He also found that mental work, such as 
sums in mental arithmetic, changed the character of the 
breathing and circulation. 

2. Such facts as those of muscle-reading prove the 
same thing. In muscle-reading there is always physical 
contact between subject and operator. The operator 
knows where an object is hidden which he wishes the 
subject to find, and he keeps his mind fixed on the place 
where the object is. This fixing of attention leads to 
involuntary contractions of the muscles that guide the 
subject toward the place, if he is sensitive enough to 
perceive them. 

3. The facts of hypnotism are too well known to 
need description here. We mention hypnotism because 
its essential characteristic is that the subject is in some 
way given an idea which fills his consciousness, and 
therefore must be carried out into action. What is called 
the "control" of the hypnotist over the subject depends 
entirely upon how well he can fill the subject's mind with 
the ideas which he wishes him to act upon. 



Imitation and Suggestion 373 

4. There are many facts in our everyday life that 
illustrate the same thing. When there is no conflicting 
idea in our minds we act upon any idea that comes 
into it. If we see a pencil, we make marks with it; if 
a pin is on the floor, we pick it up; if we put on our hat, 
we also put on our coat and gloves, and so on. 

Habitual acts come under this head; the act once 
started is finished because we have no opposing idea. 

This carrying out into action of an idea that in any 
way enters the mind, depends, we have just said, on 
the absence of conflicting ideas. This, in 
turn, depends upon the number of associa- imltativ^e" ° 
tions that one has with an idea, and the ness or sug- 
amount of attention fixed upon the idea. ^^^ * ^ * ^ 
The more the attention is fixed, the more likely is the 
idea to be carried out; and the fewer the associations, 
the less likely are opposing ideas to rise. Children 
have fewer associations than grown .people, and hence 
beHeve everything that is told them. Their attention 
is also easily attracted. On both accounts, then, the 
tendency is for them to carry out into action at once 
anything that attracts them, and therefore children are 
more imitative than adults. 

Imitation means, in its widest sense, the copying of 
some idea, received from some person or object, in the 
forni in which it was received. Thus one may imitate 
the pose of a statue, the bark of a dog, the movement 
or the voice of a friend. One may also imitate motives 
as far as one knows them. 

The questions immediately before us are these: 
When does imitation rise, and when ebb? How strong 
is its power over the child ? What does he imitate ? And 
what use can we make educationally of this tendency? 

Imitation is now usually classed as a genuine instinct. 



374 The Child 

It is an inborn tendency common to all children, but 
undeveloped at birth. At first, a child's acts are reflex 
Rise of and involuntary, and not until between the 

imitation ^ges of four and six months does real imita- 
tion begin. From that time to the age of seven, 
imitation is the principal means of education. This is 
simply another and more specific statement of the fact 
that all consciousness is motor. There is some bodily 
change in answer to any stimulus, and in imitation the 
body merely reproduces in the same form the stimulus 
that it receives. 

Preyer remarks that the very first imitations of the 
baby are imitations of movements that he already knows 
and does without any such stimuli. In the case of his 
son, it was the pursing of the mouth, and occurred in the 
latter part of the fourth month. Miss Shinn notes for 
the same time some possible imitations of sounds, but is 
dubious about their being true imitations. Even if there 
are genuine imitations at this early age, they are infre- 
quent, and the most patient encouragement of the child 
will not call them out except to a very limited extent. 
The connective fibers between the sensory and motor 
brain regions, which are essential before imitation can 
occur, have not yet developed to any great extent, and 
do not until about the ninth month, at which time imi- 
tation becomes much more frequent. In the sixth or 
seventh month there are some clear cases of imitation, 
but even then they are relatively few, while from the 
ninth month on, the baby imitates all sorts of movements 
and sounds — combing his hair, shaving himself, and sweep- 
ing and other household tasks. By two and a half years 
the child is into everything, imitating his elders, and 
wanting to help in every way. The great development 
in the ninth month certainly has a close connection with 



Imitation and Suggestion 



375 



the rise of creeping and language and the growth of 
perception, but we lack observations which would reveal 
the exact order of development and the causal rela- 
tions between these processes. 

In these first imitations, the child imitates most readily 
the movements that he already performs refiexly or 
instinctively. Beckoning or waving the hand in "bye- 
bye" is one of the first imitations, and in the beginning is 
only a repetition of the natural movements of the arms. 
But even before such a voluntary imitation occurs, the 
child is very likely to reproduce unconsciously move- 
ments or sounds, such as a smile or a cough. Later he 
will also do this, but when asked to do it, either does it 
very poorly or not at all, and always hesitates for some 
seconds before he can get the necessary movements started. 

Imitation being well developed by the second year, 
the question is of great interest as to what what a child 
the child imitates and how he does it, and imitates 
investigations have been made of which the following is 
Miss Frear's summary: 



What the child imitates: 

1 . Animals 

2. Children 

3. Adults 

Kind of imitation: 

1. Direct 

2. Play 

3. Idea 

The characteristics imitated: 

1 . Speech 

2. Action 

3. Action, speech, and sound 



3 YEARS 


7 YEARS 


5% 


10% 


ID 


ID 


85 


80 


35 


15 


50 


80 


65 


75 


15 


10 


70 


80 


75 


60 



Now it is both interesting and important to notice 
that 85 and 80 per cent of the child's iinitations at three 
and seven years, are of "grown folks," and this is still 



376 The Child 

more important when we add, what is not given in the 
table, that most of these are imitations of the teacher's 
actions and speech. It seems difficult to overestimate 
the influence of the teacher over the child less than seven 
years old. After that age, imitation becomes less prom- 
inent because, as a child gets more ideas, he has more 
things to choose from and is more likely to combine them 
in ways of his own. 

We should notice also that by the time the child is 
three years old the direct imitation of movements and 
sounds, which is his only mode of imitation at first, 
constitutes only 35 per cent, and at seven years only 
15 per cent of his imitations, while play, which allows 
change and invention, constitutes 50 to 80 per cent at 
the two ages; and imitation of ideas, which includes 
many plays, is the most important factor. This change 
from imitation of movements to imitation of ideas in 
play, is coincident with the development of memory and 
imagination that we have already described, and with the 
beginnings of questioning. 

The large proportion of imitations of movements 
marks once more the necessity, so often mentioned, of 
giving children plenty of freedom for activity; while 
the numerous imitations of adult activities strongly 
emphasize both the social nature of the child and the ease 
with which education can at this time introduce him 
to the work of the world in a play form. The more 
we study the children themselves the more do we become 
impressed by the fact that a grown person who is unsocial 
and lazy is one who has been warped from the natural 
order of growth. 

Deahl's returns from twenty-two boys' and sixteen 
girls' schools (average ages of boys .sixteen and of girls 
seventeen) as to the qualities of the leaders imitated by 



Imitation and Suggestion 377 

the pupils show that imitation has a wide range. Size and 
age alone may cause either a boy or girl to be imitated, 
but wealth and position and school rank seem of little 
importance. Among the boys, athletic prowess and such 
qualities as courage and energy lead, and among the 
girls, beauty and dress. Moral goodness is by no means 
always present in the leaders. 

Questionnaires issued to teachers asking whether they 
imitated their own teachers for good or bad, and whether 
and in what respects their pupils imitated them, showed 
that four fifths of the teachers were imitated, the leading 
points of imitation being in dealing with disorder, lesson 
plans, use of illustrative material and devices, and in 
slightly smaller numbers in personal mannerisms, tone 
of voice. Four fifths of the same teachers believed that 
the imitative pupils were those who profited most by 
instruction. 

Imitation has been classified in various ways. First, 
there is the division into reflex and voluntary. In reflex 
imitation one simply copies, involuntarily. Kinds of 
any movement one happens to see. One imitation 
child yawns, and then another; one coughs, then another. 
Voluntary imitation, on the other hand, selects and tries 
to imitate the copy, as in copying a drawing. This divi- 
sion corresponds, in the main, to the distinction betwean 
simple and persistent imitation. In simple imitation a 
child repeats some movement without modifying it in 
any respect. Usually he copies it only once, because he 
does not get interested in the act, and so is not stimu- 
lated to repetition. Such imitation has little educative 
value. In persistent imitation, however, he does find 
the copy interesting and is stimulated to repeat the 
movement again and again. As a typical case of this 
sort, Baldwin gives the illustration of his httle daughter 



378 T he C hild 

imitating him in taking the rubber of a pencil off and 
putting it on again. She would do this for half an hour 
at a time. 

Here we must note one point which will save much 
defective teaching if kept in mind. Are the children 
Value of doing the same thing over and over in this 

repetition repetition of the act? To us they appear to 
be, because they get the same result, but if we examine 
the acts more closely, we shall see that this is not the case. 
The first time Helen tries to put the rubber on the pencil, 
she probably does not succeed, although she tries very 
hard. She keeps on experimenting, making different 
movements with her fingers and the pencil, until she 
happens to get it on. Then she pulls it off and tries 
again; this time she succeeds more quickly and easily, 
because she leaves out many unnecessary movements. 
And so each time some movements are omitted and 
better control of the rest is obtained until the child is 
satisfied and stops. Each time the act is somewhat 
different from what it was before, and each time the 
child learns something. The entire process of repetition 
is the best method of self -education that could be devised, 
and should not be stopped. 

The writer has been told many times that there are 
usually one or two songs or games which a child chooses 
to play ten times, where he chooses others once. Often 
we cannot see why he should like that particular song or 
game so well, but it would seem that it must exercise 
certain muscles and develop certain organs and so give a 
deep satisfaction to the child who chooses. His choice 
may not always be one that suits the majority of the 
children, however, and so he cannot always be gratified. 

This enjoyment is also due in part to the great enlarge- 
ment of a child's range of actions. When a child sees 



Imitation and Suggestion 379 

a new movement and begins to imitate it, he finds a new 
self in his body that he has never dreamed of before. He 
gets a large number of new and delightful feelings, and, 
most glorious of all, he finds that he can get those feelings 
as often as he pleases by simply making a certain move- 
ment. He becomes master of himself through imitation, 
and the delight obtained from this beginning of control is 
the direct incentive to voluntary effort and to voluntary 
attention. Imitation is the developer of will power. 

It is not the thing that is accomplished by the move- 
ment, but the feeling of the movement that delights 
the imitative child, and so he repeats it until satisfaction 
he becomes thoroughly familiar with the feel- in movement 
ing, and then discards that copy. So, also, he '^^^ 
is satisfied with any makeshifts in his imitation if only 
they allow the right movements. Thus we find a little 
girl of three years washing her doll's clothes without 
water; ironing them with a cold iron; and mending 
them when there are no holes. Another papers the 
wall with imaginary paper and paste, using a clothes brush 
for a paste brush to help out his imagination. 

Because all the child wants is the new feelings in the 
movements, we find also that aesthetic motives seem to 
have little value in deciding what children shall imitate. 
Repulsive things are as attractive as are beautiful. 
Children imitate deformities and disease. There are 
numerous cases of children impersonating lame people, 
humpbacks, blind people, or drunkards, not at all in a 
spirit of mockery, but just as they imitate everything 
else. To show how strong this , copy may be, we have 
in mind a case of a Httle girl of five years who visited 
a sick cousin. For more than a week after coming 
home, she played she was sick. She made some bread 
pills, which she took regularly, and every little while 



380 The Child 

she would lie down, cover herself up, and act as her 
cousin had acted. It is rather difficult to know what to 
do in such cases, for we cannot prevent children seeing 
such things, and we do not wish to repress the spirit of 
imitation. Can we not make the children realize that 
the humpback suffers most of the time because his 
lungs, heart, etc., are pressed out of place by his curved 
spine? And that the drunkard is himself wretched, and 
the cause of wretchedness to others? That is, we should 
replace the superficial knowledge of the child by a deeper 
understanding, and he will lose his desire to imitate 
such things. 

This leads us to another important characteristic of 
imitation, — its social nature. We have said that through 
Social value imitation a child makes acquaintance with 
of imitation j^jg own body and gets control of it ; it is 
equally true that by imitation he makes acquaintance 
with objects and persons. When a child imitates the 
movements of another person he reproduces thereby in 
himself the same state of mind in part as that of the person 
whom he imitates. We have seen, in our study of the 
emotions, that if we assume a certain position, the corre- 
sponding emotion is likely to come, and this is also true 
when the movement is imitated. Our little copyist is 
able to put himself in another's place by imitation, and 
at first only by imitation. Imitation therefore is the 
basis of sympathy as well as the developer of will and 
attention, and the agency for giving us self-control. 
Truly, it hardly seems possible to exaggerate its impor- 
tance in the mental development of any child. . 

Therefore let a child imitate freely, and do not fear that 
he will become a slave to outside influences. Rather, he 
is laying the foundations for future originality because 
he is gaining that knowledge of others and control of 



Imitation and Suggestion 381 

himself without which no invention is possible. Imitation 
is the germ of the adventurer's spirit, from which in 
later life will bloom discovery, invention, and imagination. 

The transformation from imitation to originality comes 
as his improvement in his imitation increases, until the 
original movement serves only as a hint for Relation to 
starting. The factor of imitation is, no doubt, originality 
still there, but is covered up more or less. This change 
comes, apparently, when the child has imitated until the 
act is easy, and hence requires so little attention that 
he can expend the mental energy thus set free in adorning 
the act, so to speak. Then imagination comes to the 
fore, and suggestion is invaluable. The place of imitation, 
accordingly, would seem to be in getting technique. It is 
a great advantage to a child who is drawing to see how 
to hold his pencil and how to make a clear line, and it 
certainly does not interfere with his individuality. The 
mistake that we all make lies here rather, — we insist 
upon giving him an end to copy that is outside himself, 
whereas the end should be the expression of his own 
personality, and should be chosen by himself. At the 
same time it is often true, no doubt, that a child does not 
know what he wants to do, or wants to do a thing that 
would harm him. In such cases suggestion must come in. 

We are very much afraid nowadays — at least many 
of us are — of destroying a child's spontaneity if he imi- 
tates much. There can be no doubt that children have 
been and are repressed far too much by school formalities, 
book study, and so on, but free imitation has nothing 
to do with such repression. Free imitation is as much 
a part of "free play" — the watchword of educational 
individualism — as is invention or imagination. Once 
more we would emphasize the fact that the development 
of a child proceeds best when he can freely choose what 

25 



382 * The Child 

he will do, but we would also emphasize the other fact 
of which we sometimes lose sight, that what a child thus 
freely chooses to do is almost invariably something that 
he sees going on in the life about him, and that the wisest 
educator is the one who so arranges the child's surround- 
ings that the things to hold his attention for imitation 
are those which will best educate him. The child who 
persistently does not imitate is usually the incipient 
criminal. He is the unsocial child. 

Since the child of this age is so willing to take up in 
Importance invitation whatever the teacher may suggest, 
of the best kinds and modes of suggestion 

suggestion come up next for our consideration. 

Suggestion is used here in the sense of any thought 
or act that may be acted upon by a person. Sugges- 
tion then takes many forms, which may be graded accord- 
ing to the degree of clearness in the idea suggested. 

At the bottom of the list Baldwin puts what he calls 
physiological suggestion. Examples of this are putting 
Physio- ^ baby to sleep by patting it, by singing to 

logical it, by putting out the light, learning to lie in 

suggestion ^^^^ when not asleep, and so on. 

In such cases, an association is formed between a 
certain stimulus and a certain act, but the child has no 
clear idea of the act that follows, and it cannot prop- 
erly be called imitative. The forming of associations 
here is, however, a very important matter, and one 
that is absolutely under the control of the one who has 
charge of the child, if the child is healthy. If a child 
is healthy it is simply folly for its mother to accustom 
it to constant attention and coddling in order to keep 
it good humored, or to put it to sleep. Most babies at 
first will go to sleep as readily if left alone in a quiet, 
dark room as if sung to sleep by a bright light. So with 



Imitation and Suggestion 383 

all bodily habits, especially after six months. By regu- 
larly putting the child into certain positions, associations 
are formed between them and definite bodily reactions, 
and the reaction always follows. The extent to which 
this is true is shown in odd examples. I have heard of 
one little girl who could not go to sleep unless she saw a 
towel with a red border put under her pillow, and then 
she would drop off at once. Another had to embrace 
a certain book on theology. 

Let us now turn our attention to other methods of 
offering suggestions and the advantages thus gained. 
That suggestion is strong among school Suggestion 
children is shown in the experiments made through 
by Mr. M. H. Small. He wished to see if '^^^^ 
he could not create real illusions by giving the children 
the right ideas. Accordingly he tested a school of five 
hundred children of all grades up to high school, in this 
way: he took into the room a bottle of perfume with a 
spray attached and also a perfumed card; he had two 
or three children come to the desk and smell of each. 
Then without the children knowing it, he substituted 
water for the perfume, and a scentless card for the per- 
fumed one. He then sprayed the water into the room 
with every expression of enjoyment and was joined in 
these by practically the entire room. Seventy-three per 
cent of the children thought they could smell the per- 
fume. He tried similar experiments with taste and sight, 
deceiving respectively 88 per cent and 76 per cent of the 
children. The deception was greater among the younger 
children than among the older. 

Both before and since Small's experiments numerous 
similar ones have been carried out by Lippmann, Lobsien, 
Chomjakov, Kosog, Binet, Schnyder, Oppenheim, Ransch- 
burg, and others, on children and adults, normal and 



384 The Child 

morbid. In some cases suggestions were made to falsify 
memory; in others, faint perceptions were used as in 
Small's tests. The Aussage tests, already referred to in 
the chapter on Memory, brought out this suggestibility 
in somewhat different ways, but Stern states that it 
lessens in the Aussage tests from 50 per cent at seven 
years to 20 per cent at eighteen years, and 25 per cent at 
fourteen years. 

The percentages obtained from the various investiga- 
tions differ somewhat according to the method of putting 
the question, but certain general statements may be made 
as to the results in which they agree. 

1. Most subjects look upon a question as a command, 
whether they are adults or children, and endeavor to 
give some sort of answer, rarely refusing or saying that 
they do not know. This means that attention is focused 
on the question and its answer, and, consciousness being 
thus narrowed, the subject becomes more suggestible 
than before, and thus more easily impressed by the sug- 
gestions in any direction. 

2. Binet's suggestive questionnaires showed that even 
when the questions were strongly suggestive of false 
answers, the subjects blamed themselves and not the 
questions, and that states of doubt were common. Choice 
between two incorrect dilemmas also succeeds much more 
often than suggestion of adding some small detail and, 
much more, some large detail. But here habit also plays 
a part. 

3. Lippmann summarizes the effects of his experiments 
thus: 

(a) The pure determinate question is the least suggestive. 

(6) The yes-no and the complete disjunctive have little 
suggestiveness, and the false suggestion has little. The 
correct expectative question has more, and the questions 



Imitation and Suggestion 385 

with false presuppositions and incomplete disjunctives 
have most of all. 

4. But if the questions are put in series, we must 
remember that the Einstellung, or set of the subject's 
mind brought about by the previous questions, has a 
distinct influence, although we do not yet know how great 
this is. 

5. And, finally, the knowledge which the subject already 
has and on the basis of which he answers, can be more 
easily modified along the lines of his habitual associations 
and his interests, and with regard to unimportant or small 
details than in other ways. 

This tendency to accept and imitate the attitude of 
the teacher is due, as we have said, to the lack of conflicting 
ideas in the child's mind, and so the most Value of 
essential thing in persuading is to prevent strong 
the rise of these. "A strong will," says conviction 
Guyau, "tends to create a will in the same direction 
in others. What I see and think with sufficient energy, 
I make everybody else see and think. I can do this just 
in proportion as I believe and act my belief." The first es- 
sential for success in teaching, therefore, is enthusiasm and 
a conviction of the importance of the work. The next is 
belief in one's own power to succeed, for thereby one gains 
poise and the power to assert oneself calmly and authori- 
tatively, both of which are necessary to the teacher. 

Beyond this, the teacher must make herself a model 
fit for imitation by the child. Her position of author- 
ity in the school fastens the child's atten- 
tion upon her irresistibly for the time that of good 

he is with her, and imitation of her is as breeding in 

t!6d.ch6r 
inevitable and unconscious as breathing. 

First of all, she must "sit up and look pleasant." She 

must carry herself well. It goes without saying that 



386 The Child 

her dress must be neat, but it is equally important that 
it should be tasteful. A teacher who wears ugly colors 
or bad combinations of colors is a stumbling block to 
these little ones, in a very real sense, for she is training 
them to do the same thing. So also it is inexcusable 
for her to use harsh, shrill tones in speaking or sing- 
ing. She must modulate her voice so that it will be 
low and sweet. 

The degree to which all the physical peculiarities of 
one person are imitated by others is greater than is 
commonly appreciated. Coughs, stammering, hysterical 
attacks, carriage, peculiar gestures, and 'facial expres- 
sion, all are imitated. The teacher who wears a worried 
frown soon has a frowning school. 

Less observable but more important is the effect 
upon the child of the teacher's mental and moral atti- 
Value of tude. Only from the standpoint of the 

belief power of suggestion do we appreciate the 

'" ^ * full importance of believing that a child is 

good, and of letting him know our belief. "Convince 
the child that he is capable of good and incapable of 
evil, in order to make him actually so." A child, and 
even an adult, unconsciously to a large extent, imitates 
the copy of himself that is held before him. Suppose 
a child has misbehaved in some way. With a little 
child, the chances are that his intention was not wholly 
bad, and if we assume that he was mistaken in his act 
and not willful, we can often change the intention. 
Say, "Now see how others would misunderstand you, 
though you did not really intend to do wrong," or "See 
how you have hurt him, but you did not mean to," 
and so on. The little recreant will find it harder not 
to live up to this copy than to imitate it, as a general 
rule. So, generally, when the selfish or narrow side of 



Imitation and Suggestion 387 

a child's nature comes to the front in an act, do not 
make it definite and clear cut to his consciousness by 
talking to him about it, but rather emphasize first its 
unhappy results, and then the good results which rise 
from another way of acting. Make the child conscious 
of the good tendencies but not the bad, unless he is 
evidently doing wrong with full consciousness of it. 
Then remonstrance and discussion are in place, as we 
have already said. 

Every movement of the teacher is a suggestion to 
the pupil. If she expects bad behavior, she calls it 
out by her attitude of suspicion. Her eyes, head, hands, 
all declare her expectation, and give rise to ideas of 
mischief that otherwise would not enter the child's 
mind. In the same way, we find that children usually 
care most for the subject that the teacher likes. When 
she loves nature and the beautiful, every suggestion is 
of their attractions, and she can carry the pupils over 
numberless obstacles by reason of their imitation of her 
enthusiasm. Her own feelings, with their concomitant 
actions, are reflected in her pupils. Such things are 
"catching." 

We see here also why a negative suggestion is less 
valuable than a positive one. If I say, "Johnny, don't 
put the beans in your nose," why is it less ^ 
valuable than to say, "Johnny, put the suggestion 
beans in your pocket"? Evidently, in the ^ 
first case, Johnny's attention is fastened on the beans 
and nose, and he is at the same time left inactive. The 
natural thing is for him to act on the idea presented. 
In the second case, his attention is fastened csn a useful 
idea, and he is given something to do. The different 
methods of treating a child who gets hurt are in the 
same line. Why is it better to make light of the injury? 



388 The C h i Id 

Evidently because this gives the child a good copy to 
imitate. 

In its wider bearings we can only refer to the possi- 
bilities in imitation and suggestion. Social contagions 
both good and bad have been studied and their laws 
formulated. At the other extreme, the power of auto- 
suggestion has been emphasized, perhaps overmuch. 
The use of suggestion in the cure of disease and the 
reformation of morals has been extolled, and along with 
the bad much good has been done. 

The still broader question of why we choose certain 
acts and qualities for imitation goes back doubtless to the 
question of interests and instinctive tendencies. There 
are many more things that a child does not imitate than 
that he does, but with regard to the things chosen imi- 
tation is assuredly the master method of acquiring the 
desired qualities. 

REFERENCES 

Bacon, John. Thoughts on Imitation. Paid., 1902, 4, 100-104; 

160-163. 
Baldwin, J. M. Menial Development in the Child and the Race. 

Macmillan, N. Y., 1906, 3d cd., 496 pp. 
Mental Development: Social and Ethical Interpretations. Mac- 
millan, N. Y., 1897, 574 pp. 
Mental Development: Methods and Processes. Macmillan, N. Y. 

and London, 1895. 
Suggestion in Infancy. Science, 1891, O. S., Vol. XVII, 113- 

117. 
Barrows, C. M. Suggestion without Hypnotism. Proc. of the 

Society for Psychical Research, 1896, Vol. XII, 31-44. 
Bell, J. C. Effect of Suggestion upon Reproduction of Triangles. 

Am. Jour. Psy., 1908, 504-518. 
Bosanquct, B. Imitation. Mind, N. S., 1899, 167-175; Psy. Rev., 

1902, Vol. IX, 383-389; answer by Baldwin, 597-603. 
Brand, J. E. Effect of Verbal Suggestion upon the Estimation of 

Linear Magnitudes. Psy. Rev., Jan. 1905, 41-49. 



/ m i t ati o n and Suggestion 389 

Chancellor, W. E. Class Teaching and Management. Harper, 

1910, 342 pp. See Index. 
Deahl, J. N. Imitation in Education. Macmillan, N. Y., 1900, 

99 PP- 
Dubois, Paul. Influence of Mind on Body. Funk and Wagnalls Co., 

N. Y., 1906, 63 pp. 
Self-Control. Funk and Wagnalls Co., N. Y., 1909, 337 pp. 
Psychic Treatment of Nervous Disorders. Funk and Wagnalls 

Co., 1905, 466 pp. 
Edgar, J. Individuality and Imitation in Children. Child Study, 

Lond., Apr. 1908, Vol. I, No. i, 12-23. 
Ellwood, C. A. Theory of Imitation. Am. Jour. Soc, 1901, Vol. 

VI, 721-741. 
Frear, Caroline. Imitation. Fed. Sem., Apr. 1897, Vol. IV, 

382-386. 
Gross, Karl. The Play of Animals. Appleton, N. Y., 1898, 

341 PP- 
The Play of Man. Appleton, N. Y., 1901, 412 pp. 
Guyau, J. M. Education and Heredity: A Study in Sociology. 

Scribner's, N Y., 1891, 240 pp. 
Harris, W. T., et al. Psychological Foundations of Education. 

295-321. 
Psychological Tendencies. The Study of Imitation. Kept. 

U. S. Com. Ed., 1896-7, 671-694. 
Haskell, E. M. Imitation in Children. Fed. Sem., Oct. 1894, 

Vol. Ill, 30-47. 
Hays, H. M. Hypnotism, its History, Nature, and Use. Fop. 

Sc. Mo., Nov. 1905, Vol. LXVII, 590-607. 
Holman, H. Imitation in School Children. Paid., Apr. 1889, 

24-37- 
Huntington F. D. Unconscious Tuition. Am. Jour. Ed., 1856, 

No. I, 141-163. 
Imitation, Report of Commissioner of Education on, 1896-7, 

671. (Summary of Tarde, Royce, and others.) 
James, Wm. Varieties of Religious Experience. Longmans, N. Y., 

1904. 534 PP- 
Talks to Teachers. Holt and Co., N. Y., 1899, 301 pp. 

Keating, M. W. Suggestion in Education. A. and C. Black, Lon- 
don, 1907, 202 pp. 

Le Bon, G. The Crowd. Macmillan, N. Y. $1.50. (Shows the 
power of suggestion.) 



390 The Child 

Ledyard, Mary F. Imitation, Originality and Freedom. Proc. 

N. E. A., 1899, 547-551- 
Lippmann, O. Die Wirkung von Suggestivfragcn. Zeit. f. ang. 

Psy., 1907-9. (Series of articles; among the best.) 
Lukens, H. Suggestion in the Cure of Faults. N. W. Mo., May 

1898, 592-595- 
Moll, Albert. Hypnotism. Scribner's, New York, 1906, Vol. XIV, 

448 pp. 
Newbold, W. R. Suggestibility, Automatism and Kindred Phe- 
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375-380; 520-526; 641-652. 
Interpretation of Automatisms. Pop. Sc. Mo., 1897. 
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Ethics, 1898, 214-228. (The great necessity of suggestions 

of good.) 
Pearce, H. J. Experimental Observations upon Normal Suggesti- 

biUty. U. of Chicago Lab. Psy. Rev., 1902, Vol. V^III, 

329 et seq. 
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Appleton, N. Y. $1.50. 
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Imitation and Suggestion 391 

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CHAPTER XVII 

Language 

I. Keep a dated record of the order of development 
of vowels and consonants; of "clicks," grunts, and other 
Observa- sounds. 

tions 2. Note when gestures begin to be used 

to get what the child wants. What gestures are used 
by the child? What, are first used? What are most 
frequently used? 

3. Note when the baby begins to understand speech. 
Be careful here not to confuse knowledge of the word 
with knowledge of the gestures. To be sure that the 
baby understands the word, it must be spoken without 
gestures or any unusual inflections. 

(i) When does he know his name? 

(2) The names of the people that he sees most fre- 

quently ? 

(3) The names of any objects? 

4. The beginnings of speech. Keep a record of the 
first words used with meaning, spelling them as they 
are pronounced and classifying them as they are used, 
not as classified in a grammar. 

Such a record can be made for children of any age. 

5. Keep a record of the color vocabulary from the time 
when the child first names a color correctly. 

6. Keep a record of the first sentences, noting the 
order of the words. 

7. Collect accounts of words and languages invented 
by children, 

392 



Language 393 

One of the characteristics of man that has attracted 
much attention and been the cause of much discussion 
is his ability to use language, that is, to instinctive 
communicate with others. In this, its most expressive 
general sense, language is not limited to gestures 
words, but also includes gesture, drawing, which origi- 
nated in gesture and whence written language was 
derived, and any cry that has meaning, whether it be 
articulate or merely the cry of rage or pain. 

Within a week after his son's birth, Preyer noted the 
turning away of the head when the baby had sufficient 
food. This is the forerunner of the shake of the head 
in denial. In the sixth month, arm movements were 
added to this, which looked like pushing away the 
object, but they did not clearly have that purpose until 
the fifteenth month, and then were probably imitated. 

In the first turning away of the head, the movement 
is expressive of the fact that the baby has had all that 
he wants, but of course he has no intention of com- 
municating with others by the movement. The move- 
ment is as instinctive as sucking itself, and is important 
here only because later it is used as a sign by which to 
express thought. 

During the first months of life there are a number of 
instinctive movements which are also expressive and 
which are the basis for later gestures and words. Among 
them are the instinctive expressions of pain, weariness, 
fear, anger, astonishment, joy, desire, and pride. These 
are not all present at birth, but appear before the end of 
the first half year. 

The first tears, which may express weariness, pain, 
fear, or anger, appear between the twenty-third day 
and the twentieth week. The characteristic transverse 
wrinkling of the forehead in grief, appears early and 



394 



The Child 



also the peculiar parallelogram-shaped mouth, and put- 
ting up the lip. 

The first smile sometimes comes even in the second 
week, but is likely then to be only an impulsive grimace 
and not expressive of satisfaction. By the end of the 
first month Preyer found that it was always associated 
with comfortable conditions, and in a few months arm 
movements regularly accompanied it. Darwin puts the 
first smile as late as the seventh week, and the first 
laugh in the seventeenth week. Preyer puts the first 
laugh at nearly the same date as the first smile. Later 
the laugh also is accompanied by arm movements. It 
became much more noticeable in his son in the eighth 
month, and then was at times imitative. Laughter 
passing into tears, he never observed in children less 
than four years old. 

The characteristic look of astonishment appeared in 
Miss Shinn's niece in the sixth week, on tasting some 
new food. This also is hereditary, and one of its impor- 
tant factors, the horizontal wrinkles of the forehead 
with wider opening of the eyes, is traced back by Darwin 
to the attempt to see better the object causing the 
surprise. 

Fits of rage or anger, with stiffening of the body, 
and striking out and kicking, appeared as early as the 
tenth month "in Preyer 's boy. 

Desire is very early shown in the cry, and to this is 
added, about the fourth month, the stretching out of 
the arms to the thing wanted; and still later, the putting 
of the hands together as if to grasp the object. Between 
the eighth and twelfth months, pointing is gradually 
developed from this. 

Expressions of affection, such as kisses, pats, and 
hugs, are imitated, and do not appear until about the 



'Language 395 

sixth month, at which time also a real gesture language 
is likely to begin. 

Gesture, or the sign language, is common to all men 
and is used by animals almost as much as the inarticu- 
late cry. It seems to be of almost as wide Voluntary 
application as the cry. The dog's entire gesture 
body is unconsciously eloquent of his mood, and even 
consciously he makes a limited use of gestures in trying 
to attract attention or to persuade man to do his wish. 
When we come to man, we find that the natural sign 
language is strikingly similar in all parts of the earth. 
An Indian can make himself understood anywhere that 
the sign language is commonly used. Deaf-mutes who 
have not been taught the conventional sign language, 
and Indians understand each other without difficulty. 

We can hardly question that gesture, aided by a few 
half -articulate cries, was the first language, and for a 
long time was more prominent than speech in men's 
communications. So we should expect to find, as we do, 
that in each baby's development gestures come to have 
significance before words do. 

At about the same time that imitation begins, sig- 
nificant gestures arise. The six-months-old child tugs 
at his mother's dress when he is hungry, holds out his 
arms to be taken up, and learns to wave "bye-bye" and 
go through the various baby tricks. A little later he 
begins to invent gestures. All kinds of begging and 
coaxing gestures, attempts to attract attention, appear. 

The use of nodding to mean "yes" is not seen until 
between the twelfth and fifteenth months, and is proba- 
bly not hereditary, as shaking the head is, although 
Miss Lombroso so classes it. It does not appear until 
long after shaking the head does, and is probably 
imitative. 



396 The Child 

In this use of gestures the baby is at one with primi- 
tive man, unciviUzcd peoples of to-day, deaf-mutes, and 
Gestures the ^-P^asic patients. There seem to be certain 
primitive common or root gestures which all men who 
anguage have no speech, or only imperfect speech, 
use in expressing their thoughts, and it seems as though 
reference to this natural language might settle some of 
the disputes as to the appropriate gestures in discourse. 

On the other hand, there are variations from these 
common roots according to the nationality and ration- 
ality of the person, just as there seem to be variations 
even in the instinctive expressions of emotion, so that 
we cannot press too far the theory of a universal sign 
language. Savages and children use many more ges- 
tures than adults of civilized races, and more pronounced 
inflections. It is related of some savage tribes that they 
can hardly understand each other in the dark. 

Such language is much more closely confined to the 
concrete than are words. The gesture is essentially a 
reproduction of the object or action, and does not lend 
itself readily to the representation of class-ideas or trains 
of reasoning. Uninstructed deaf-mutes, it is claimed, 
have few ideas of the supernatural, and only the lowest 
abstract ideas. The entire system of gesture, while 
pleasing and universal, soon reaches its Hmit of develop- 
ment and must give way to a system that has greater 
mobility and power of adaptation. 

It is supposed that there is .some connection between 
the sign language and the spoken word, but we have 
Connection ^^'^ exact knowledge of what it is. The 
of gesture brain centers for control of speech and of 
wit words ^i^g right hand are close to each other, and 
presumably the exercise of either would stimulate the 
other through diffusion of the nervous excitement. 



Language 397 

Considering language merely as a means of com- 
munication, there would seem to be nothing marvelous 
in the fact that the word has come to be its Speech and 
chief form. It is simply a case of the sur- t^® cry 
vival of the fittest. Not only are the lips and tongue 
more mobile than other muscles, and so better adapted 
for expressing slight differences of sound and thus for 
indicating many objects with comparatively small effort, 
but their use leaves the hands free to do other work 
at the same time that talk is going on. It would seem 
inevitable, therefore, that the word should become the 
especial means of communication as the demand for 
communication grew, though at first it was carried on 
merely by inarticulate cries and gestures. 

Cries and gestures seem to be to a large extent com- 
mon to all men, and also to men and animals. The 
cry of rage is easily distinguished from that of pleasure, 
the cry of fear from that of attack. When we go be- 
yond these, however, we approach speech. Buckman is 
authority for the statement that fowls have twelve or 
more different cries by which they warn and guide each 
other; cats, six; rooks, six, and monkeys two hundred or 
more, almost a language- itself. We find also that many 
animals can learn to understand us, no gesture or peculiar 
inflection being used. Romanes quotes the case of a 
chimpanzee who would follow her master's directions 
into minute details about sticking a straw into the meshes 
of her cage. Dogs also learn to follow directions. It 
is related of one of Scott's dogs that the servants 
used to trick him by saying in his presence that the 
master would come home over the hill. The dog 
would at once go the route indicated, never by any 
chance taking the other path. There seems to be no 
intrinsic reason for doubting the possibility of such things. 



39S The Child 

This does not, of course, mean that animals can reason. 

In all such cases it is difficult to separate tone and 
inflection from the mere sound of the word. The former 
are the more primitive. Most animals obey the tone 
rather than the word. Idiots who cannot learn to 
speak or understand words can be taught some things 
by tone and gesture. This, perhaps, is one reason why 
music — mere tone — has such a universal hold. 

From these rudimentary cries which man possesses 
in common with animals, some philologists believe 
Development ^^^^ human speech has developed through 
of human refinement of the articulation. The reflex 
speec ^j.y ^£ emotion, the voluntary cry of warn- 

ing or threat, and the imitation of some sounds, thinks 
Le Fevre, furnish the elements of language. Of these 
elements animals possessed the first as well as man, but 
man, with a more developed brain, distinguished and used 
more words, through changes in intonation and in sounds. 
Other philologists lay more stress upon the influence of 
sex in developing language; while still others believe that 
man speaks primarily because his lips and tongue are 
more mobile than those of animals. 

Whichever factor may have been the leading one in 
the race-origin of language; we can see that in the baby's 
speech they all play some part. 

It is indubitable that man now has a certain instinct 
to speak — to communicate by sounds — though not to 
speak any given language. It seems that a French child 
brought up in an English family, or vice versa, learns 
the adopted tongue as readily as the natives do. How 
far the development of language would go if children 
were left entirely alone is an interesting but unsettled 
point. The cases of shipwrecked children are unsatis- 
factory, because such children have had no companions 



Language 399 

and so no incentive to invent a language. Long before 
a child imitates, however, he babbles, and the sounds 
that he thus instinctively makes are his unconscious 
preparation for later speech. 

The child enters life with a cry, which has been the 
subject of much discussion. Some claim that it is a 
celestial cry — apparently a reminiscence of The first 
the angel's song. So noted a man as Kant ^^^^^ 
asserts that it is a cry of wrath at being introduced to 
the hard conditions of this life. But we will satisfy 
ourselves with the notion that it is simply a cry of pain 
when the cold air rushes into the lungs and automatically 
expands them. 

The first cries are instinctive and to the child's own 
mind are not expressive, although they usually indicate 
bodily conditions, such as hunger or pain or pleasure. 
Preyer notes the wail of hunger, the sharper loud cry 
of anger, the crow of delight, the monotonous cry of 
sleepiness, and the short, high-pitched yell of pain. 
These are instinctive at first and are not intended to 
tell others what his condition is. 

The child cries at a bright light or a bitter taste, and 
later at a loud sound, because there are certain arrange- 
ments of nerve cells at birth that necessitate this response. 
During the first month of life the sounds that the child 
makes are for the most part vowels; d, do, a, are the 
favorite ones, and there are variations of these and others 
which adults find it difficult to describe. These sounds 
are also frequently given on an inspiration and expiration, 
making two-syllabled combinations like agoo. 

The first consonant put with them is an indistinct 
guttural or nasal, g or ngd, as Miss Shinn gives it. These 
syllables are repeated by the baby again and again, 
making reduplications, for which he has a fondness for 



400 T he C hild 

some time after real speech has begun. Savage races 
show the same fondness. 

Wallace and Johnston have also attempted to show 
that the order of development in baby speech, from 
vowels to semi-vowels, nasals, and consonants, paral- 
lels the development of human speech. 

The first consonants that appear are m, p, d, I, and k. 
The first sound not a vowel was heard by Preyer on 
First the forty-third day; the first ma, on the 

sounds sixty-fourth day. On these facts Buckman 

has based an ingenious theory as to the origin of lan- 
guage. The combination ma-ma-ma is usually the first. 
Vierordt states that generally the vowel in the crow of 
pleasure is a; of pain, d. The latter very naturally, says 
Buckman, although purely reflex at the start, is used 
when the child is hungry or in pain, and becomes a way 
of calling for his mother, who relieves hunger and pain. 
Hence it becomes her name, "mama," and this root is 
found in Sanskrit, Greek, and Latin, as well as in our 
modern languages. 

So again, pa or da, resulting in "papa" or "dada" is 
a natural cry when the child is not as violently agitated 
as by hunger, and becomes attached to the father. This 
root also is found in Sanskrit, Greek, and Latin. Kah, 
on the other hand, is used to express strong disgust, as 
when the child tries to eject disgusting food. It is made 
by lifting the lips from the teeth, opening the mouth and 
almost coughing, the same instinctive expressions that 
animals employ. From it come the Greek tcaKo? (bad), 
KccKK}/ {excrement), Latin caco, and similar words. 

The la sound, on the other hand, is given in content- 
ment, or pleasure, and gives rise to the Greek XcxXkoa, 
(to chatter), and the English lullaby. 

From these instinctive utterances language first arose. 



Language 401 

thinks Buckman, constantly growing in fineness until 
the marvelous complexity that we now use was attained. 
Taine and Darwin bear out these remarks as to the first 
sounds. With Taine's daughter ma was first given; 
krauu to express disgust, and pa a little later. 

Miss Shinn's records agree with these as to "mama." 
"Dada" was also one of the first words, and signified 
pointing out, seeing, exulting, admiring. "Nana" was 
a wail of protest and refusal. Two other words, "kraa" 
and "ng-gng" or "mgm," were used very early but were 
imitations of words given to her to express disgust, and 
disappearance. 

The first exercise of the organs is not expressive of any 
meaning. The baby enjoys exercising his throat, tongue, 
and lips and so keeps it up for hours at a time. It 
is an excellent training for the later speech, for, 
although he can as yet imitate no sounds, he makes all 
the sounds and gets flexibility and strength of the vocal 
organs and lungs. Deaf-mutes, who make few sounds 
as compared with normal children, are unusually subject 
to throat and lung diseases. 

The exact order in which the various sounds appear 
must vary, although in the main the same, because the 
shape of the mouth and the other vocal order of 
organs differs and the child pronounces first sounds and 
the easiest vowels and consonants. It is also ^^ * ^^ 
noticeable that Preyer says that during the first year of 
life the child pronounces all the consonants, even those 
which later on he has to learn over again. We have 
here a fact similar to what we have already noticed in 
imitation, when the child involuntarily does easily and 
well what he does slowly and imperfectly when the action 
is voluntary. 

Among the sounds made at this early stage are all 



402 The Child 

sorts of gutturals and "clicks," which adults find it 
difficult to speak and which correspond closely to Arabic 
and Hebrew gutturals and savage "clicks." 

The order for the appearance of the letters, as given 
by Tracy, is as follows, beginning with the most diffi- 
cult: r, I, th, V, sh, y, g, ch, s, e, f, t, n, q, d, k, o, w, a, h, 
m, p, b. 

Sully puts all mistakes in pronunciation under the 
following heads: 

1. Simplifications. 

(i) A child naturally drops letters and syllables that 
are hard for him, especially if they are at the end of 
Mispronun- the word, and the inflection and rhythm 
ciation are not altered thereby. At first he seems 

to understand only the vowel sounds in what is said to 
him, and in imitating a sound will get only the vowel 
and inflection, with a vague surrounding of indistinct 
consonants. Preyer's boy would respond in the same 
way to "Wie gross?" "gross," and "o'ss." Again, in 
trying to say "Putting my arms over my head," little 
Ruth would get, " u i i a owy i ead," with hardly a distinct 
consonant in it, but a ludicrously faithful reproduction 
of my own tones. 

In this dropping of syllables dance becomes "da"; 
candle, "ka;" handkerchief, "hanky," "hankish," or 
"hamfish," and so on. 

(2) The accented syllable naturally is always the one 
kept, whether it is at the beginning, middle, or end of 
the word, for we speak it with more stress and voice, 
and it must attract the baby's notice more than the 
others. 

2. Change of letters. 

(i) Vowels are not omitted but are often changed. 
(2) Consonants are not always dropped, but others 



Language 403 

may be substituted for them when they are difficult. 
In such cases the preceding or succeeding sound deter- 
mines what shall be put in, giving a duplication. Thus 
"cawkee," coffee; "kork," fork; "hawhy," horsie; "laly," 
lady. In other cases p and s are dropped and others 
substituted: "feepy," sleepy. Where / and r are replaced, 
almost any substitute may be used, but le; is a favorite. 

(3) The consonants may be interchanged: "tsar," 
star; "psoon," spoon; "hwgohur," sugar; "aks," ask; 
"lots it," lost it. 

With all these natural difficulties in speaking correctly, 
it seems a pity to add further mispronunciations by his 
elders, in the fonn of baby talk. Baby talk 
is one form of endearing terms, but surely 
the English language has a vocabulary of such words that 
is far better than the usual run of baby words. We 
hinder the child's speech by limiting ourselves to him. 
We should rather encourage him to use our words, espe- 
cially as the vocal organs grow less flexible as they become 
more used to certain combinations of sounds, and so an 
incorrect pronunciation may become habitual. An older 
form of baby talk is found in many school books in the 
names given to flowers, animals, geometrical figures, and 
so on. As a matter of fact, children learn the correct 
names as easily as they do the silly, sentimental names, 
and do not need to unlearn them later. 

So far we have discussed only the making of articulate 
sounds. We have not yet reached language. For 
language we must have not only a perfect Rise of 
vocal and auditory apparatus, but ideas, t'""^ speech 
and desire to express them. During the first six months 
the child seems to lack these, although Darwin noticed 
in his boy different cries for hunger and pain at the age 
of eleven weeks and an incipient laugb in the sixteenth 



404 The Child 

week. But it may be questioned whether these were not 
entirely involuntary and reflex. In the second six months, 
however, persistent imitation of sound and gesture arises. 
The child voluntarily uses different cries and gestures for 
different things, although his vocabulary of spoken words 
is very small, or may indeed be nil, as in the case of 
Taine's child. 

. Feldman, on comparing children, found that the first 
word varied as follows: 

Month: 14 15 16 17 18 19 

No. of children: i 8 19 3 i i 

These children first walked alone: 

Month: 8-9 10 11-12 

No. of children: 3 24 6 

We have already seen that Mead's stud}'' of normal 
children show that the median age for the first step is 
13.54 months, and for the first word, 15.8 months; for 
abnormal, the median for the first step is 21.6 months, 
and the first word, 34.4 months. 

From this it appears that children walk before they 
talk, and we may add that they understand before they 
walk. 

When the child is learning to walk he acquires no 
more speech and may even go backward, but after that 
The first the learning and understanding of words 
vocabulary jg very rapid. A child understands many 
words before he speaks, even as early as eight months. 
Striimpell's daughter enjoyed little stories told her in 
her thirteenth month, though her own speech was very 
imperfect. Another child of eight months knew by 
name all the persons in the house, the parts of her 
body, and most of the objects in the room, and under- 
stood simple sentences. 

It should be said here that children may differ within 



Language 



405 



wide limits as to the time when they begin to speak, 
and still not be abnormal. Perez, indeed, says that 
"The more intelligent a child is, the less he uses words,' 
and the more necessary it is to him that words should 
signify something to him, if he is to learn them; and 
this is why he only learns words in proportion as he gains 
ideas about objects." 

The character of the first vocabulary is shown in the 
following comparative table, which is given in per cents: 



Dewey. 

I girl, 18 nios. . 

I boy, 19 " . 
Tracy. 

12 children, 19 to 

30 mos 

Salisbury. 

I girl, 33 mos. 

I girl, 52 yrs.. 



Wolff. 

Boy's Diction ary ' 
Kirkpatrick. 

Per cents of words 
in English Ian 
guage 



z 




n 












D 






> 


a 
< 



< 





U 


w 

>5 


5.^ 


6 


28 


I 


6 





I 


6 


bo 





21 


II 


3 








5 


60 


2 


20 


9 


5 


2 


•3 


1-7 


54-5 


3.7 


23 


9.6 


5 


3 


.006 


.006 


S7 


I 



20 
30 


17 


2 


I 


.003 


.0009 


42 


8 


10 


4 






60 




II 


22 


5-5 









5°5 



144 
115 



5400 

642 

1528 

215 



These lists, as Dewey remarks, classify the words 
according to their meaning for adults, an artificial method 
for two reasons. At first one word stands for a sentence 
in childish speech. "Water" — / want water. "All 
gone" — The flower has disappeared, etc. Furthermore, 
the child, like the savage, uses one word for many parts 
of speech. "The hurt blooded." "It ups its false feet." 

1 This dictionary was made by a boy before his seventh year. 
It does not, of course, give his entire vocabulary, but only words 
that for any reason he wished to define. 



4o6 The Child 

"Can I be sorried?" etc. A carefully made vocabulary 
would classify each word according to the child's use of 
it, and so such classifications as these given here are but 
rough and ready tests. Even so, however, they are 
suggestive of characteristic differences between the child 
and the man. 

The idea of action is very prominent in all the first 
language. Even with this artificial classification, the 
percentage of verbs is twice as large in childish as in 
adult speech, and less than i per cent of the nouns are 
abstract. Here again we find the parallel between the 
child and the race. The more primitive a language, the 
larger the proportion of verbs, and it is very probable 
that the first sentences consisted of but one word. An 
interesting bit of evidence to show how recently the 
different parts of speech have assumed clearness in man's 
mind is the fact that the ancient Greeks, in writing, ran 
all the words of a sentence together 

Children vary greatly in the age at which they learn 
to name colors, as well as in the ability to distinguish 
Color the colors. Preyer's child at twenty months 

vocabulary knew no color names. This seems to be 
more a matter of opportunity than of inability to dis- 
criminate. Sanford and Wolff say that the average edu- 
cated adult uses only twenty-five color terms. Many 
five-year-old children use only five, and the average two- 
year-old but one. Pelsma's child, however, who often 
saw her mother painting, used five at twenty-four months; 
eleven at thirty-six, and eighteen at forty-eight months. 
But Pelsma does not attribute this large nimiber to any 
unusual sensitiveness to color. 

The number of different words, as well as the classi- 
fication of them, varies greatly from writer to writer. 
Whipple and Tracy, for instance, class each inflection, 



Language 



407 



except plurals, as a separate word, believing that to the 
child they are distinct ideas. Others do the opposite. 
Most classify the words according to the child's use of 
them, but this introduces an element of uncertainty, a 
large personal factor, into the classification. We now have, 
however, more than a hundred vocabularies, and are able 
to outline the general course of development. The fol- 
lowing table, taken from J. R. Pelsma's Summary of Chil- 
dren's Vocabularisc (Ped. Sent. Sept. 19 10, p. 347) sum- 
marizes the results. The twenty-six children of the first 
four rows are different from the sixty-eight of the next two. 





d 

d 
2 


M 


Noun 


Verb 


Adj. 


Adv. 


Pro. 


Prep. 


CONJ. 


Int. 




T3 

1-1 




6S 





S5 





^ 





^ 


•0 

u 




6? 


•E 



65 


•a 

^ 

20 
16 
17 
26 
71 
97 


0.3 
0.4 
0^ 
0.2 
04 

0.4 


"E 


ISI 

42 

33 

241 

177 

418 


65 


I 

2 
3 
4 


6 
IS 
3 

2 


68 
7658 
3628 
2298 


SI 

4461 
2074 
1308 


7S 
S8.3 
57-4 
56.9 


s 

1588 
776 
476 


7.4 
20.7 
21. 5 
20.7 


4 
798 
417 
260 


5-8 
10.4 
11.3 
II 3 


366 
173 
137 


4.8 
4.8 
6.0 


ISO 
80 
44 


2.1 
1:9 


IIS 
SI 

23 


IS 
1-3 

I.O 


1.9 
I.I 
IS 


0-2 

2-4 


SO 
18 


10890 
14403 


6707 
8312 


61.5 
57-9 


2063 
3023 


190 
21.0 


1043 

ISSI 


9.6 
10.7 


483 

759 


4-S 
S.3 


187 
301 


1.8 
2.1 


136 

209 


1-3 
1.4 


2.1 
1.2 


0-4 


68 


2S293 


ISOI9 


S9.4 


S086 


20.1 


2S94 


10.3 


1242 


4.9 


488 


1.9 


34S 


1-3 


1.7 



The range in the number of words as given by various 
observers is large. Thus at twelve months seven cases 
range from 3 to 24 words; at eighteen months. Range in 
four cases range from 60 to 144 words; at vocabularies 
two years, nineteen cases varied from 36 to 1,227 words; 
at thirty months, five cases varied from 327 to 1,509 
words. Pelsma's table for fourteen two-year-old children 
gives an average of 518 words, and for three years, 1,209, 
but he believes both these above the average, which he 
puts at 1,149 for three years, and about 2,000 for six 
years, though he does not state his grounds in either case. 
He excludes inflected endings and grammatical variants 
from his lists, and thus makes the numbers somewhat 
smaller than some observers. But Mead's fifty children 



4o8 The Child 

did not begin to talk until 15.8 months. (See chapter on 
Reflex and Instinctive Movements.) 

It happens also that children living under ordinary 
conditions sometimes invent words and even languages, 
Invention The languages we shall mention later. The 
of words words seem, in some cases, not to be the 
result of imitation, but strictly original. Among such 
cases are "memhy," food; "afta," drinking; "gollah," 
rolling things; "tonies," children; "diddle-iddle," hole; 
"wusky," sea. 

One child described by Mr. Hale invented names in 
which the vowels denoted the size of the object as they 
were higher or lower; for example, "lakail," an ordinary 
chair; "lukull," great armchair; and "likill," little doWs 
chair; "mem," watch or plate; "mum," large dish; ".mini," 
moon; and "mim-mim," stars. Deaf-mutes invent a few 
words usually, and some invent many. Words for food 
and drink are the most common. Hall has a selected 
list of more than a hundred words invented by children 
which seem to exclude imitation. 

Besides the invention of words, children usually form 
some words through the imitation of sounds or onomat- 
opoeia, as Miss Shinn's niece imitated the mewing of a 
cat and later used the sound for the cat's name. In this 
respect, as well as in the invention of words, the natural 
tendency is repressed by the fact that children have the 
adult language before them to imitate, and so are saved 
the trouble of inventing a new one. 

Nevertheless, the tendencies which do crop out are 
of great interest to the philologist, because the words 
which children form either through invention or imita- 
tion show curious resemblances to primitive tongues 
and offer suggestions as to the origin and development 
of language. For instance, Mr. Hale and various other 



Language 409 

authorities who have studied the words and languages 
invented by children, believe that in this tendency to 
invent is seen the cause of the origin of diverse languages. 
"Each linguistic stock must have originated in a single 
household. There was an Aryan family-pair, a Semitic 
family-pair, an Algonkin family-pair. And further, 
it is clear that the members of each family-pair began to 
speak together in childhood." 

The age at which the first sentence is spoken will vary 
as much as all other stages of language development. 
To quote Preyer again, his son spoke the The first 
first sentence near the end of the twenty-third sentence 

month. The memorable utterance was "Heim mune," 
which, being translated is, "Home, milk." Striimpell's 
daughter, however, spoke her first word in the tenth 
month and used sentences as early as the seventeenth 
month. Trettien makes the average from eighteen to 
twenty months. Pelsma says that at two years his 
daughter used all parts of speech, and compound and 
complex sentences. 

The first sentences after the sentence-words already 
mentioned commonly cons'ist of a noun and adverb or 
adjective, or two nouns with a verb understood. "Big 
bird," "Papa, cracker, milk," etc. The verb makes 
its appearance, says Sully, as an imperative first. The. 
order of the words varies, sometimes subject and some- 
times predicate being put first. Apparently imitation has 
little effect when an English child will utter a sentence 
like this: "Out pull baby spectacles." I suppose that 
the order depends upon the idea which is most prominent 
in the child's mind, that being put first, as with adults 
sometimes, for the sake of emphasis. Children as a rule 
seem to have trouble in putting "not" in the right place; 
and they also bring out their meaning by making two 



4IO The Child 

opposing statements — "This not a nasty wow wow; this 
a nice wow wow." This uncertainty of order is also 
paralleled in primitive languages. 

We all know the wonderful things a child does, when 
he tries to use inflections, in his attempt to make the 
First use of language consistent with itself. Of course 
inflections irregular verbs are made regular, plurals 
are all formed alike, and so on, but he caps the climax 
in his use of the verb be. As Sully says, it is asking too 
much of a child to expect him to say "Yes, I am," when 
asked, "Are you good now?" and we can sympathize 
with the little girl who, after much drill from her mother, 
when asked if she was going out said, "I'm are." If a 
child is asked, "Will you be good?" why should he not 
say, "I be good"; or, if that event occurred yesterday, 
"I bed good"? "Am't I?" is surely as logical as "Isn't 
he?" We find also an impromptu making of verbs 
that is delightful. "Better n't you do it?" says the little 
fellow. 

"I" and "you" are stumbling blocks also. At first 
the child speaks of himself by name, and is likely to 
think "I" and "you" names like any other. So he 
will say, "What am I going to do?" for "What are you 
going to do?" The constant change from one to the 
other, according to which person is speaking, is most 
puzzling, and yet Tracy says the child has learned the 
meaning by twenty-four months. Others assign dates 
from sixteen to thirty months, a wide variation. This 
is, of course, a gradual process. The child will use the 
terms correctly, and then drop them for a time, to 
resume them later. The free use of them is commonly 
taken to signify more sense of the child's own personality 
than before. The development of speech is effectively 
simimarized in the chart found on the following page. 



Language 



411 




412 T he C hi I d 

After the child by his instinctive babblings and per- 
sistent imitation has learned to speak words, he learns 
Language to use them with a significance from con- 
and thought stantly hearing one word used in connec- 
tion with a given object. In so far as the same word 
is used for different objects or situations, he is left help- 
lessly struggling for the common meaning hidden beneath 
all this diversity; and again, when different words are 
used with the same meaning, as in the various forms of be, 
he is led astray into seeking differences where none exist. 

Hence comes the value of language as an aid in the 
development of concepts, and as a revealer to us of 
their growth in the child's mind. At first he uses words 
in altogether too wide a sense. "Mamma," "bath," 
"wow- wow," are applied not only to the particular 
objects he knows, but to all that in any degree resemble 
them. The child does not see differences distinctly 
enough to mark off individuals unless there is some 
striking characteristic to aid him. He rather associates 
the word with the whole situation in which it is used, 
and oftentimes with all the details of it. Thus, Romanes 
gives the case of a child who saw a duck on the water, 
and called it "quack." After that he called all birds 
and insects "quack," and also all liquids. Still later he 
saw an eagle on a piece of money and called it "quack" 
again. Lindner's daughter, when asking for an apple, 
was taught to say "apple," and thereafter used the word 
as meaning eat. Another child used the word "ta-ta" 
to say good-by; then when anything was taken away; 
then for the blowing out of a light. Still another used 
"hat" for anything put on his head, including a brush 
and comb. Dipping bread in gravy is called a "bath." 
The palate is the "teeth-roof"; the road is the "go"; the 
star is the "eye"; all metals are "keys." 



Language 413 

In all such cases we notice that the child is trying 
to classify, and must use what he already has in the 
way of words to aid him. So also with rela- Expressing 
tions — a much more difficult thing, and relation 
one in which a child is likely to get confused. A child 
will have a vague idea of quantity, but cannot at first 
express or understand too much and too little, too big and 
too small. He may get them in one situation, but when 
the same object that is too big for one thing is too small 
for another, it is beyond him. Here is the root of his 
trouble with "I" and "you." It is not surprising that 
little George thought "the Doctor came and shook his 
(Willie's) head and gave him nasty physic, too." 
"Buy" and "sell," "lend" and "borrow," "teach" and 
"learn," are thus all pitfalls for him, and at first are 
confused. Here again we can trace the race parallel. 
Many people use "learn" for "teach" and we apply 
"pleasant," "sore," etc., both to our feelings and the 
object that causes them. Our abstract words also bear 
unmistakable marks of their concrete origin. "Spirit" 
is "breath"; "wrong" is "awry," "twisted," or "bitter"; 
"right" is "straight," and so on through the list. 

In his hasty generalizing the child makes many mis- 
takes in his conclusions, and so a process of limiting 
or correcting old concepts and of more Process of 
carefully forming new ones begins. A good limitation 
example of such limitation is given by Darwin. His 
son called food "mum," sugar was "shu mum," and 
licorice, "black shu mum." Such words as "teeth 
roof" for palate, "eye curtain" for eyelid, "tell wind" 
for weather-vane, show both generalization and limita- 
tion. On the other hand, of course, if the child's experi- 
ence of a word is too narrow, he will make ludicrous 
mistakes in over-limitation. Thus one boy said that 

27 



414 The Child 

the good Samaritan poured paraffin into the wounds of 
the sick man. Oil meant only paraffin to him. The 
child who entreated his mother to "buy him a brother 
while they were cheap at the show because children 
were half price," labored under a similar difficulty. 
Perhaps also the strict insistence of little children on 
exactly the same words in retelling a story shows their 
feeling of a strangeness with words. When Mr. Two- 
and-a-half -years is asked, "Shall I read to you out of 
this book?" he answers, "No, but something inside of 
it," because that is what he wants. 

Love of nonsense songs, and of Mother Goose, and 
the making up of nonsense rimes mark this period also, 
which may begin as early as three and a half years. A 
little child will often sit by himself singing over lists 
of words: mam, pam, tarn, sam, jam, etc., taking an im- 
mense delight in it. Sometimes he will rime his answers 
to your questions, or make all his conversation rhythmical. 

With the process of narrowing or limitation well 
marked, the child's way is comparatively clear before 
him. It is thenceforth the usual process of the forma- 
tion of correct concepts as traced by Baldwin. An 
object is first given which is both percept and concept. 
When other objects are presented like this in some 
respects, the same word is used for all, until the child 
fails to get what he wants by this common word, and 
so is forced to make species and varieties to go under 
the larger class. In the expression of the ideas he uses 
the words that he knows, making new and quaint com- 
binations, but little by little imitation teaches him the 
conventional signs, and he drops the original forms. 

During this first learning of language perhaps the 
most important thing is that the child shall hear only 
correct speech and cultivated voices. Baby talk is not 



Language 415 

to be used, nor are harsh tones. Slovenly pronunciation, 
or sharp or loud voices at this early stage will do irrep- 
arable harm to the child's speech. 

From three to seven years of age the child's language 
interest is nearly if not quite as strong as before. He 
loves to practice on new words, whether Child's 

the meaning is or is not known; alliterations, speech 

rimes, and rhythms are very attractive to him, and in 
some cases like the one given by Wolff, defining is equally 
so. Free expression now is greatly aided by dramatiz- 
ing what he knows. He loves both to hear and to tell 
stories. 

From seven to twelve the love of words merely on 
account of their sound persists, but words also acquire 
value from their associations. In the latter part of the 
period the sentence form becomes more complex, — the 
subordinate sentences increase greatly and statements 
become both more exact and concise. During the entire 
period Dr. Hall believes that children should have much 
opportunity to talk and relatively little to read and 
write. Correct pronunciation and use of words are 
best acquired now; the great myths and masterpieces of 
the race are enjoyed, especially in story-telling. At the 
same time, the mechanics of reading and writing must 
be learned at this stage. 

During this period we should also note the rise of 
secret languages. Chrisman found that the curve 
begins as early as five or six years of age; Secret 
increases rapidly from nine to twelve; cul- languages 
minates at thirteen, and declines to seventeen or eighteen. 

There are many kinds of secret language, varying 
from the easy "hog Latin," which only adds "gry" 
to every word, to a very complex inflected language. 
Frequently such a language lasts for fifty or sixty years 



4i6 The Child 

and is passed down from one generation of children to the 
next. In other cases the language is invented in whole 
or in parts, and even a dictionary may be made, to 
which new words are added from time to time. 

The length of time such a language is used varies 
greatly. In some cases the interest lasts only a few 
weeks; in others, ten or twelve years. Two children 
who invented their tongue used it so constantly that 
their parents made every effort to dissuade them from 
it, but in vain. After two years, however, they gradu- 
ally began to use English. In another case a man records 
that he has spoken his secret language to himself for 
fifty years. That is, he thinks in it, and when he speaks 
or writes translates into Enghsh. The motive for using 
the language is, as a mle, the desire for secrecy. The 
older children begin to employ it to keep secrets from 
those not in their ckque; another language is used in 
another clique, and so on. The language is used in writ- 
ing notes in school, and on all occasions where mystery 
and secrecy are desirable. 

Doran listed words which children could use intelli- 
gently, choosing them at random from the dictionary. 
Size of ^^^ found that one boy of nine knew 6,031 

child's words; one of ten at least 10,000; two of 

vocabulary twelve 22,000 and 28,400; one of thirteen, 
26,300; two girls in second- and third-year academy 
work, 22,000 and 26,000; one boy in fourth-year academy 
work, 41,000; two junior college boys, 40,000 and 50,000. 
His own English vocabulary he lists at about 100,000. 
There is no way of knowing how representative these 
returns are, but the writer himself believes that they are 
probably above the average. The words do not of course 
always represent new ideas, and the "intelHgent use" is 
an indefinite standard. 



Language 417 

At adolescence the interest in words appears not only 
in the love of certain sounds but in the great increase in 
slang, in the use of foreign terms, and in gjang 
attempts to define or use terms very exactly, precision, 
Miss Williams found in her returns (250) foreign words 
little slang before eleven years, but a culmination at 
fourteen. Conradi, on the basis of 295 returns, puts 
the height of slang at thirteen, and of the reading craze 
and precision in the use of words at fourteen. Both 
Williams and Conradi attribute the rise of slang to the 
feeling that the ordinary vocabulary is inadequate to 
express the emotions of the adolescent. The use 
of foreign terms, on the other hand. Hall condemns as 
only an " afifectation of superiority and love of mystify- 
ing others." It seems to fade with the culmination of 
secret languages, and may be connected with the rise 
of secret societies. The sentence form seems to suffer 
arrest for a year, but then becomes much more in- 
volved and intricate. In Conradi's returns 50 per cent 
take to poetry in the early teens and 28 per cent imi- 
tate the style of some favorite author. Interest in 
telling stories declines rapidly as interest in reading 
increases. 

Bullock's returns from two thousand third- to twelfth- 
grade children show that the average boy read in six 
months 4.9 books in the third grade; 6.5 Children's 
in the seventh grade, and then fewer, until reading 
in the twelfth grade, or end of his high-school course, he 
read only 3. According to Henderson's returns (2,989 
children) fewest books were read at nine and most at 
fifteen years. Kirkpatrick found a sudden rise in the 
amount read at twelve years, which continues for at 
least three or four years. Vostrovsky and Lancaster 
have similar results. 



4i8 The Child 

The reading tastes of children, according to these 
various returns, show the following for boys: Stories 
Tastes of adventure (including war) are popular 

of boys a^ ^11 grades, culminating in the eighth ; 

biography, travel, and exploration rise steadily to the 
ninth; fiction (juvenile) culminates about the eleventh 
year. The boys want exciting stories, with a hero and 
nimierous incidents. Girls read more than boys. They 
Tastes too, like biography and adventure, but 

of girls want stories of great women. They read 

more fiction and poetry and less history, science, and 
travel. Hall says the high-school girl's reading is more 
humanistic, cultural, and general; the boy's, more prac- 
tical and vocational. 

In general, adolescent youth should have free access 
to the best literature and be encouraged to read freely. 
During the time that his powers of expression lag behind 
his power of feeling, expression should not be demanded, 
but on the other hand spontaneous expression in 
conversation, declamation, and debate should be encour- 
aged to the utmost. Most writers agree that formal 
English grammar is a positive detriment both to appre- 
ciation of Hterature and to the development of literary 
expression. 

The problem of learning to read is one that can be only 
referred to here. Huey and Dearborn both give excellent 
summaries of the mechanical and psychological factors 
involved in the act. We wish merely to call attention 
here to the fact that few people know how to read well. 
Each individual can train himself to read far more rapidly 
and easily than he does habitually, without sacrificing 
accuracy. Huey's section on the psychology of reading 
is illuminating here, and worthy the perusal of every 
teacher of reading. 



Lan gn a ge 419 

REFERENCES 
Language 

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Psy., 1900-01, Vol. XII, 80-130. 
Buckman, S. S. Speech of Children. Nineteenth Cent., 1897, 

792-807. 
Canfield, W. B. Development of Speech in Infants. Babyhood, 

May 1897. 
Chamberlain, A. F. The Child, 107-171. L. W. Scott. 

Studies of a Child. Ped. Sem., 1904 and 1905. 
Chambers, W. G. How Words Get Meaning. Ped. Sem., 1904, 

Vol. XI, 30-50. 
Champneys, F. H. Notes on an Infant. Mind, Vol. Ill, 104. 
Chrisman, O. Secret Language. C. S. M., 1896, 202-211; also 

Century, 1898, 54-58. 
Collins, J. Genesis and Dissolution oj the Faculty of Speech. Mac- 

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Conradi, E. Psychology and Pathology of Speech Development in 

the Child. Ped. Sem., 1904, Vol. XI, 325-380. 
Children's Interest in Words, Slang, Stories, etc. Ped. Sem., 

1903, Vol. X, 359-404- 
Dearborn, W. F. Psychology of Reading. N. Y., 1906, 134 pp. 
Dewey, John. Psychology of Infant Language. Psy. Rev., 1894, 

Vol. I, 63-66. 
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(Grammar, High School, and College Students.) Bibliog^. 
Fay, E. W. Language Study and Language Psychology. Pop. 

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Gale, Harlow T. Vocabularies of Three Children. Gale's Psycho- 
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1902, 45-51. 
Vocabularies of Three Children, at two and three years. Ped. 

Sem., 1902, Vol. IX, 422-435. 
Greenwood, J. M. Vocabularies of Children. Rept. as Stipt. of 

Kansas City Schools, 1887-88, pp. 52-65. 
Groos, Karl. The Play of Man, 31-48, 294-300. Appleton, N. Y. 

$1.50. 



420 The Child 

Hale, H. Origin of Language. Proc. Am. Assn. Adv. Sc, Vol. 

XXXV, 1886. (Account of language invented by children. 

Summary in Romanes's Mental Evolution in Man, 138-144. 

Appleton, N. Y. $3.00.) 
Hammerschlag, V. Disturbances of Speech in Childhood. Arch. 

OloL, 1906, Vol. XXXV, 379-384. 
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Holden, E. S. Vocabulary of Children under Two Years. Trans. 

Am. Philol. Assn., 1877, 58-68. 
Huey, E. B. Psychology and Pedagogy of Reading and Writing. 

Macmillan, 1908, 409 pp. Bibliog. (Excellent.) 
Humphreys, W. Contributions to Infantile Linguistics. Trans. 

Am. Philol. Assn., 1880. 
Kirkpatrick, E. A. How Children Learn to Talk. Science, O. S., 

Sept. 25, 1891. 
A Vocabulary Test. Pop. Sc. Mo., 1907, 157-164. 
Lamson, Mary Swift. Life and Education of Laura Bridgman. 

Houghton, Mifflin, Boston, 373 pp. $1.50. 
Lukens, Herman. Learning of Language. Ped. Sent., 1894-96, 

424-460. 
MacDougall, Robert. The Child's Speech. Series in Jour. Ed. 

Psy., Sept. 1912 to Feb, 1913. 
Mach, E. Language: Its Origin, Development and Significance 

for Scientific Thought. Open Court, 1900, Vol. XIV, 171 -178. 
McKendrick, J. G. Experimental Phonetics. Nature, i<)oi, 182-189. 
Mallery, G. Sign Language among North American Indians. 

15/ An. Kept. Bureau of Ethnology, 1881. (Also summarized 

in Romanes's Mental Evolution in Man. Appleton, N. Y. 

$3-oo.) 
Mateer, Florence. Vocabulary of Four Year Old Boy. Ped. Sem., 

1908, 63-74. 
Noble, E. Child Speech. Education, Sept. and Oct. 1888. 
O'Shea, M. V. Linguistic Development and Education. Macmillan, 

1907, 347 pp. Bibliog. (Very complete.) 
Pelsma, John R. Child's Vocabulary and its Development. Ped. 

Sem., 19 10, 328-369. 
Perez, B. First Three Years of Childhood, 234-262, Bardeen, 

Syracuse. $1.50. 
Pollock, F. Infant's Progress in Language. Mind, Vol. Ill, 
Preyer, W. Mind of the Child — Senses and Intellect, 99- 1 88. Apple- 
ton, N. Y. $1.00, (Very detailed and accurate account 



Language 421 

of speech from birth to three years. See appendix for sum- 
mary of Sigismund, Lobish, Taine, Striimpell, Darwin, 
Vierordt, Schultze, Lindner, Tiedemann, Feldmann, Holden, 
Haldemann, Humphreys.) 

Rankin, Jean S. Eighth Grade Vocabulary. Ele. Sch. Teach., 
191 1, 465-468. 

Ribot, Th. Abstraction Prior to Speech. Open Court, 1899, 14- 
20. 
Evolution of Speech. Open Court, 1899, 266-278. (Anthro- 
pological in nature.) 

Romanes, G. J. Mental Evolution in Man. Chapter VI. Also 
see Index. Appleton, N. Y. $3.00. 

Salisbury, A. A Child's Vocabulary. Ed. Rev., Vol. VII, 289-290 
(Vocabulary of child at 32 weeks and =)]4 years.) 

Sanford, E. C. Language of Children. Notes. Fed. Sent., 1891 
257-260. (Summary of many men.) 

Scripture, E. W. Terminal Verb in Infant Speech. Science, O. S 

Vol. XXIII, 62. (Observation to show that English child 

sometimes naturally puts infinitive at end of sentence 

instead of directly after verb.) 

Researches in Experimental Phonetics. Yale Psy. Lab. Studies 

1899, Vol. VII, i-ioi. 
Elements of Experimental Phonetics. Scribner's, 1902, 627 pp 
Stuttering and Lisping. Macmillan, 1912, 251 pp. 

Sholty, Myrtle. Reading Vocabulary of Children. Ele. Sch. Teach. 
Vol. XII, 1912, 272-277. 

Smith, M. K. Psychological and Pedagogical Aspects of Language 
Ped. Sem., 1903, Vol. X, 438-458. 

Stern, W. and C. Die Kinder spr ache. Barth, Leipzig, 1907, 394 pp 

Stevenson, A. Speech of Children. Science, O. S., Mar. 3, 1893 

Sully, James. Studies of Childhood — The Little Linguist Apple- 
ton, N. Y. $2.50. 

Taine, H. Acquisition of Language by Children. Mind, 1877. 
On Intelligence. Vol. II, 138-151. Holt and Co., N. Y. $2.50. 

Thomas, C. J. Aphasias in Children. Child Study, 1909, 97-109. 

Thorpe, E. J. What Teachers Need to Know about Speech Imped- 
iments. Proc. N. E. A., 1903, 1031-1036. 

Trettien, A. W. Language Interest of Children. Ped. Sem., 
1904, Vol. XI, 1 13-177. (Good.) 

Whipple, Guy M. and wife. Vocabulary of Three-Year-Old Boy. 
Ped. Sem., 1909, 1-22. 



42 2 T h e C h ild 

Williams, Lillie A. Children's Interest in Words. Ped. Sent., 

1902, Vol. IX, 274-295. 
Wolfe, H. K. Color Vocabulary of Children. U. of Nebraska 

Studies, July 1890, 205-245. 

Literature 

Anderson, Roxanna E. Reading Tastes of High School Pupils. 

Ped. Sent., Dec. 1912, 438-460. 
Arnold, Gertrude W. Mother's List of Books for Children. McClurg, 

1909, 270 pp. 
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1909, 351-356. 
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Literature for Children. Lib. Jour., 1906, 107-112; Pub. Lib., 

1906, 360-362. 
Cannons, H. G. Descriptive Handbook to Juvenile Literature. 

Lond., 1906, 312 pp.. 
Children's Literature. Training Dept. Los Angeles (Cal.) Normal 

School, 1908, 88 pp. 
Coussens, Penrhyn W. One Thousand Books for Children. Mc- 
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Language 423 

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Stories and How to Use Them. Story Hour, Nov. and Dec. 

1908, 7-14, and 7-10. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

Rhythm, Dancing, and Music 

I . Ask adults and children to name the first ten nursery- 
rimes that come into their heads. 
Observa- Note the rhythms. 

t^o'^s 2. Compare the rhythm and time of tunes 

in your head with your heartbeat and breathing. 

3. Notice what songs your children sing most spon- 
taneously. 

4. Ask what song they like best, and notice whether 
the liking is due to 

(i) Season, as Christmas songs. 

(2) Imitation. 

(3) Permanent interest. 

5. Try to get song composition from some child or 
small group of children uninstructed in music. 

6. Observe the spontaneous reactions of children to 
music with a strong rhythm. 

In going over the literature on rhythm we find various 
discussions as to its fundamental nature, whether it is 
Nature of inherited or not, and so on. It is on the 
rhythm whole accurate enough for our purpose to 

say that rhythm is a dividing into parts by a regular 
succession of elements, whether they be movements, 
sounds, lines, colors, or what not. The division is marked 
by the first or last unit in the group being made emphatic 
in some way, while the others are unemphatic or unac- 
cented; that is, they run along without attention being 
especially called to them. The unaccented units may 

424 



Rh y th m, Dancing, and Music 425 

apparently have almost any characteristics, so far as 
their relations to each other go, so long as they have 
the same lack of emphasis, but the instant that one of 
them becomes more emphatic than the others the old 
rhythm is broken up, or else is complicated by a sub- 
rhythm within it. We do not even need to make the 
elements of a rhythmic group appeal to one sense, but 
can alternate sights, sounds, and movements, and it may 
be smells and tastes as well. 

The accented unit may be made so in a great variety 
of ways. The most common, of course, is by greater 
intensity in the movement, sound, color, or what not; 
but it may also be done by rest or omission — no move- 
ment or sound, or a dull or indifferent color. A higher 
or lower pitch, a different color, or a different movement, 
none of them requiring greater expenditure of energy 
than the other units, but different from them and recurring 
regularly also may give the necessary emphasis. To 
state it again in the most general way, it would seem 
that the essential relation in rhythm is that of one regu- 
larly recurring accented unit, with any number and 
variety of unaccented units. 

Before taking up rhythm as related to music, let us 
first notice how general a thing it is and how it underlies 
all mental activity. 

Natural phenomena almost universally take a rhyth- 
mical form. We have first the great swing of the worlds 
in their course about the center of the universe. Universality 
in a rhythm never yet completed. Then we ^^ rhythm 
have the course of each world about its sun, of each 
satellite about its world, and the rotation of the various 
worlds upon their axes, making the rhj^thms of the year, 
month, and day. In 'our sun there seem to be rhythms 
recurring about every eleven years, causing our sun spots, 



426 The Child 

and, it is seriously conjectured, affecting the harvests 
of our earth and resulting in disturbed atmospheric and 
organic conditions which lead to our periodical money 
panics and outbreaks of crime and suicide. However this 
may be, it is unquestionable that the yearly, monthly, 
and daily rhythms seriously modify both the vegetable 
and animal creation. Some plants have a daily rhythm 
of growth and rest; most of them have an annual one; 
all seek the sun. Even the moon influences the growth 
of some plants. 

In the animal world there are corresponding rhythms. 
Growth is faster in summer than in winter, and we can 
each observe annual rhythms in our mental moods 
according to the seasons. Certain states of mind and 
even trains of thought are likely to recur with each 
season. "Spring poetry," so much laughed at, or some- 
thing corresponding to it, is, I suspect, written by many 
more people than are willing to acknowledge it. 

The monthly rhythms seem to be especially con- 
nected with the reproductive and nervous systems. 
The period of gestation in various species of animals is 
usually a month, or a number of days which is seven or 
some multiple of seven. Disturbances of the nervous 
system, recurrent insanities, abnormal cravings for 
liquors and other stimulants, are also likely to have 
a rhythm. 

Weekly rhythms are less clearly marked, but as we 
saw in the chapter on growth, there is a weekly rhythm 
of growth which was probably the cause of the change 
in our manner of living on Sunday. It has led to cer- 
tain rhythms of thought and feeling. We sleep later, we 
are hungry at different times, and we think differently. 

The daily rhythm of sleep and waking is universal, 
and it seems to be accompanied by one of growth. This 



Rh y t h m, D a n c i n g, a n d M u s i c 427 

is a genuine organic rhythm, caused probably by the 
rhythm of day and night, and cannot be easily changed 
so that we shall sleep in the day and work at night. 

There are many other bodily rhythms, of which we 
will mention only a few: the pulse and heartbeat, 
respiration, walking, and speech. Every special 

cell seems to have its own rhythm of alter- bodily 

nate activity and rest ; the nervous system rhythms 

sends out rhythmical stimuli, differing in different parts. 
Thus the brain can send out only about thirteen per 
second, and the cord about thirty-four. Fatigue is also 
a rhythmical thing, a period of exhaustion alternating 
with one of recovery. 

Not only is every bodily process a rhythmical one, 
but every mental one as well. It is, however, still un- 
certain what determines our tempo when ^ 
we listen to a monotonous stimulus like the determining 
metronome, or when we voluntarily tap *t"\?° ^ 
with our finger. In the latter case the same 
person varies greatly at different times in the speed of 
tapping, and different subjects of course vary. Even when 
he has an external stimulus like a metronome or clock, 
the same subject may group differently at dififerent times. 

Dr. Bolton found that in listening to a series of uniform 
clicks the most common grouping within the widest limits 
was by 2's, when the rate of the clicks was moderate; 
when fast, by the heartbeats. When the stimuli were 
.795 seconds apart, the mind grouped by 2's; .460, by 
3's; .407, by 4's. Usually he found that the breathing 
accommodated itself to the rhythm instead of vice versa. 

Various investigators have thought that the tempo 
was set by some of the organic rhythms or automatic 
bodily activities. It has been supposed that the time 
for a double swing of the legs in walking, .663 seconds 



428 The Child 

on the average, determines the group; or that the average 
number of voluntary muscular contractions — lo to a 
second — determines the rapidity with which stimuli may 
come in order to be rhythmically grouped, this also 
coinciding with the rate of nervous discharge of the 
cortical cells; approximately to the number of syllables 
which can be pronounced in a second ; and to the shortest 
time in which we can get a complete simple perception, 
such as distinguishing one color in a group of colors. 

But the length of the rhythm is also unsettled. Investi- 
gators differ, for instance, as to the length of the wave of 
Length of attention, Lange setting it for light stimuli 
rhythm g^^ ^^ seconds, Munsterburg at 6.9, and 

Lehmann at 12.8. There is equal disagreement as to 
the length for sound and electric stimuli. The fatigue 
wave seems to be irregular, and the respiration wave is 
variously stated at from 2.5 to 4 seconds. The average 
pulse rate is 72 for males and 80 for females. 

With the organic rhythms varying within such wide 
limits it does not seem probable that any one of them 
always determines the rhythm involuntarily selected. 
On the other hand, it may be that the one which happens 
to be most prominent at a given time will determine 
the tempo then selected, at another time, another, and 
at still another time the contractions of some group of 
voluntary muscles. 

The rhythms which we fall into most naturally are 
well known. A 2-rhythm or multiple of it is by far the 
Most liked most commonly chosen and liked. Triplett 
rhythms ^^d Sanford asked persons to send in lists 

of the first ten nursery rhymes that came into their heads, 
and they found in these lists that by far the most common 
was one with a stanza of four lines and four stresses, the 
lines riming in couplets, such as, "Georgie Porgie." 



Rhythm, Dancing, and Music 429 

Second came a stanza with the first and third lines of 
four stresses and the second and third of three, like 
"Mistress Mary." Then came three three-stress lines 
and one four-stress, with the last line a repetition of 
first, — "Hickory, dickory dock." 

Grouping by 5's is always rather difficult, and grouping 
by 3's is not nearly so common as by 2's or some multiple 
of 2. This we naturally refer to the fact that most of 
our bodily movements are in 2 's, such as walking, and that 
even when one side alone is used, the opposition of flexor 
and extensor muscles creates a rhythm. 

The time limits for the rhythmical grouping of sounds 
have also been studied. We know that when sounds 
follow each other at intervals of about .550 Time 

a second (that is, slightly over one half a limits 

second, varying slightly for different adults) they are 
grasped with the greatest ease and pleasure, and if the 
sounds are alike objectively the listener tends to group 
them into rhythms either of 2 or 4. If the listener is 
not allowed to count he cannot grasp at once more than 
six single impressions, but if the sounds are arranged 
rhythmically, and with different times, he may grasp at 
once five or six rhythmical units, each unit containing a 
considerable number of beats, some say as many as twenty- 
four. With training, rhythms may be perceived in sounds 
following at intervals as small as one fifth of a second, 
or as large as three seconds, but beyond these limits it 
is impossible for most adults to appreciate them. 

P. F. Swindle (Inheritance of Rhythm, American 
Journal of Psychology, April 19 13, pp. 180-203) gives 
some interesting data to show that rhythm is not inherited, 
as is commonly assumed, and that the preferred tempo 
and the most common rhythms are dependent upon the 
bodily organism. Large members require more time than 



430 The Child 

the small, and often it is necessary to make tentative 
movements before actually doing the act. Again, we 
are bilateral, and one side is always somewhat st-onger 
or more skilled than the other. All these factors combine 
to explain accent. Our inherited structure thus favors 
two rhythms. 

But his experiments showed that if subjects are put 
under the appropriate conditions they can develop five, 
seven, and more complicated rhythms, and that with 
children, in whom the habits of two and three rhythms 
are not so fixed, there is no greater diflficulty in learning 
five than six rhythms. The point is that life conditions 
do not often demand movements in five rhythms. 

Again, he had the rhythms learned in two ways, first 
merely by counting and second purposely, by which he 
means that attention was fixed on doing a certain series 
of movements and at the same time the subject was 
required to pronounce letters or numerals exposed, so as 
to shut out counting. Series learned in the latter way 
were much better remembered, and on this ground Swindle 
criticizes Dal croze, who allows his pupils to count, although 
he says that good pupils do not. Swindle believes, how- 
ever, that most of Dalcroze's pupils do count, and to a 
large degree forget the rhythms learned. 

Turning now to the value of rhythm, Wallaschek tells 
us that the primitive song and dance were a practical 
Practical necessity to prepare the tribe for needed 
value of action or to maintain skill in times of peace, 

rhythm Tribes which play at war and hunting act 

together better than those that do not. Again, it has 
been supposed for some time that work songs have a 
practical value in regulating the movements, and Margaret 
Smith has made various laboratory tests which seem to 
demonstrate the truth of this. 



R h y i h m, Dancing, and M u s i c 43 1 

She found that rhythms are very decided helps in memo- 
rizing (this indeed we all know), that probably writing 
in rhythms goes on better than without them, and that 
heavier weights can be lifted to rhythms. 

In fact, any movements which can be adapted to a 
rhythm can be more readily learned and longer retained, 
even spelling, and a teacher ought to encourage children 
to use this aid. 

On the other hand, a word of caution must be given 
here, that the time and character of the most favorable 
rhythm seem to vary with different people. Miner, for 
instance, tried an experiment to test the use of tapping 
with the fingers while filling words into the blanks of a 
poem. He found that the tapping was a hindrance to 
the brighter pupils and an aid to the duller, and that the 
same was true when the rhythm was given by the metro- 
nome at different rates, while the subject was sorting 
out a pack of cards. That is, the dull pupil seems to need 
a little external stimulus to jog his attention to its best 
gait, while such a stimulus merely throws the attention 
of the bright pupil off its more delicate balance. This 
much, however, we can say with considerable confidence, 
that when a pupil who is studying is seen making rhythmic 
movements with any part of his body, they are probably 
of value to him.. 

But besides the rhythms already discussed there are 
other life-activities which have developed and harmonized 
our bodies and predisposed us to their Origin of 
rhythms. It was inevitable that when man t^® dance 
was wise enough to begin to play and to worship, various 
forms of the dance should arise before any other art- 
form developed. Could anything be more instinctive 
and natural than for a man who had had a successful 
hunt to act it over before his admiring fellows, imperfect 



432 The Child 

word being helped out by gesture and act ? Such recitals 
by degrees became fonnalized into a certain dance, and 
so we find among primitive peoples dances symbolic of 
all their life-activities. Such dances serve the purpose 
not only of preserving traditions but of arousing once 
more in the youth the same high feelings as inspired the 
men who did those deeds. The use of the muscles in 
these old racial ways, usually more deeply and vigorously 
than modem life demands, tends to revive the pristine 
energy and zest which so many of us lack to-day. Danc- 
ing that would be educative ought, then, to train the 
young in these old national and folk dances so far as it 
can revive them, and if such are lacking there ought to be 
a re-creation of them. At this point we see how very 
closely dancing and the drama are connected. The 
modern movement for children's theaters, in which 
children are the actors, is but one form of this whole 
tendency to recapitulate our race-life through our muscles, 
and much of the drama is dancing in this very wide sense 
which I am now discussing. Dancing but omits words 
and usually adds external rhythm, becoming more highly 
symbolic than acting. 

In many of our schools children are acting out the vari- 
ous activities which they see about them, — such as car- 
Work pentering, shoemaking, and other trades, — 
dances ^i^h the greatest enjoyment. Why could 
they not go a step farther and represent the most funda- 
mental of these activities in dances? There might be, 
for instance, the sower's dance, the reaper's dance, the 
weaver's and spinner's dances, the hunter's dance, and 
others symbolic of securing shelter, all typifying the great 
fundamental needs of man for food, clothing, and shelter. 

Again, another motive for the dance is love. In the 
mating season many sorts of male birds show off before 



Rhy th ni, Dancing, and Music 433 

the females, and in some cases there are fancy steps, 
tentative flights, preening of feathers, and so on, which 
are ludicrously like some of the exhibitions Love 

in our ballrooms. Among savages there are dances 

many forms of love dances, and in modem times, among 
civilized peoples, degraded forms of the love dance are 
nearly the only ones known. Under the unhygienic 
conditions of the ballroom, with its artificial stimulants 
of excessive light and heat, and with the common use of 
wines and other stimulants, such dancing is inevitably 
bad and must be condemned by all thoughtful people. 
But instead of banishing it, we ought to reform it. If our 
assumptions are true, even these degraded dances appeal 
to some of the most fundamental instincts, and those 
instincts ought to be given a better outlet under good 
conditions. The dance ought not to be confined to young 
people, but shared by all. Whenever possible it ought 
to be out of doors, and all the conditions should be such 
as to normalize the relations between young men and 
women, and deepen their mutual respect and admiration. 
We are foolish and prudish not to recognize that much 
of the attractiveness of dancing comes from the presence 
of both sexes, and that it is an agency by which we may 
accomplish much harm or good. 

But though to-day the love dance has held the center 
of the stage, in the history of dancing this phase has been 
much less important than has the religious Religious 
aspect. Just as men tended to formalize dances 
their daily occupations to dance and drama, so did they 
their reactions to the great powers and mysteries which 
surrounded them in nature. As far back as we have 
any history of religion we find that dancing was always a 
part of its ritual, and often the chief part. These dances 
take various forms. Sometimes they are imitations of 



434 The Child 

natural forces, such as the movements of the heavenly 
bodies; sometimes they are symbolical of or accompany 
the offering of sacrifices, and sometimes they are closely 
connected with ancestor worship and are a symbolic 
representation of the life and deeds of the great tribal 
ancestor or totem. Or again, they may be propitiatory 
in nature, prayers for rain or for deliverance from famine 
and pestilence, or dances of thanksgiving. Oftentimes 
they may be danced only by those initiated into the inmost 
mysteries, and it is supposed that in some of the Greek 
mystical brotherhoods an important part of the initi- 
ation consisted in learning the symbolical dances connected 
with their worship. In the Old Testament dancing is 
constantly referred to as a part of worship, especially on 
occasions of great public rejoicing and thanksgiving, and 
the early Christian church included it in its ritual. 

And finally, one motive for dancing, and the chief one 
to-day, is the play impulse. Any animal with superfluous 
Play energy gambols and leaps, and when these 

impulse movements are cadenced to external rhythm 

we have dancing. 

We find among many people a love of moving to rhythm, 
and endless patience in working out the steps and move- 
ments best suited to a given piece of music. Indeed, 
many persons love music in proportion as they can find 
motor expression for it, and care relatively little for its 
melodic factors. This seems to be especially true of 
children, and Jaques Dal croze has made use of this fact 
in working out his system of eurhythmies, which he 
developed originally as an aid in teaching singing. He 
found that he could hold the attention of his pupils better 
and get a better use of the voice if he allowed them to 
make movements, and by degrees he worked out a very 
elaborate system which now has representatives both in 



Rhythm, Dancing, and Music 435 

England and America, and which opens possibiUties of 
reforming not only modern music and dancing but the 
opera and perhaps the drama. 

Let me describe it as it is outlined in Dalcroze's Rhythm- 
ische Gymnastik and in various articles. Dalcroze would 
begin with six-year-old children, giving them Dalcroze 
three half hours a week from six to twelve eurhythmies 
years of age, and allowing them, if they desired, to begin 
instrumental music at eight years. The first exercises 
are very simple, — marching to pronounced rhythms, 
beating simple times, and breathing properly and regu- 
larly. Every lesson opens with preliminary exercises 
in breathing. There are also at the beginning of his 
volume exercises which are avowedly only gymnastics, 
given for the purpose of making the muscles flexible. 

The fundamental thing in these exercises is the asso- 
ciation of notes to movements. The unit in his system 
is the quarter note, or crotchet, which is always expressed 
by one step forward ; the half note is one step and a bend 
of the other knee; the dotted half note is one step and two 
movements of the other foot; the whole note one step 
and movements. The smaller divisions of eighths, trip- 
lets, and so on, are expressed by steps quicker in propor- 
tion to their frequency ; rests of various lengths seem to be 
simply pauses in position, the movement being continued 
after the rest; syncopation is expressed by a forward 
step and a bow, and so on. 

With this progress of the musical movement the arms 
beat time and the voice carries the melody, when one is 
introduced. In the beginning, however, all the rhythms 
are given on only one tone, middle c, and Dalcroze asserts 
that the constant hearing of this tone so fixes it in the 
mind that absolute pitch is acquired. 

The pupil begins then with the simplest exercises in 



436 The C h i I d 

marching and beating time, stopping and beginning at 
the unexpected command and repeating until he can do 
this automatically. He is trained here to listen to 
rhythms and then to reproduce them from memory, and 
by slow degrees exercises are introduced which make the 
arms and legs independent in action, and then the arms 
independent of each other and of the legs and head, until 
the advanced pupils may be carrying different rhythms 
with the legs, each of the arms, the head, and perhaps 
with the voice. The rriost complicated rhythms are 
easily expressed, many far more complicated than are 
now used in musical composition, and Dalcroze foresees 
that his method may thus react upon musical composi- 
tion. These of course come only at the end of the course 
for adults, and are brought out chiefly in the exercises 
in improvisation. 

These exercises are carried on by Dalcroze, who im- 
provises at the piano, the pupils realizing the improvisa- 
tion. Here there seems to be great individual freedom 
of expression allowed, and it passes naturally into plastic 
expression, in which various combinations of movements 
portray emotion. The group work is also a branch that 
seems to have great artistic possibilities. Here each 
pupil follows a certain part of the music, so that the 
whole group represents the harmony, giving us quite 
literally visual music. 

Dalcroze has not yet published that part of his work 
which gives his method of tone training, but Blensdorf- 
Eberfeld {Pad. Reform for Jan. 8, 19 13) takes it up. 
As I understand it, Dalcroze does not consider this so 
essential as the rhythmical training, and lays no claim 
to especial originality here. 

In the beginning all the exercises are given to middle c, 
and when the training in tone discrimination begins the 



Rhythm, Dancing, and Music 437 

name of do is given, and its relations to re and mi are 
taught, with many exercises and in all the times and 
rhythms previously carried out to one tone. At the 
same time the position of the three notes on the staff is 
given in three octaves. Each time a new tone is intro- 
duced the beat is made very simple, and it is sung to la 
until the tone is thoroughly learned. At first only the 
whole steps are learned, and when the half step is intro- 
duced much practice must be given on it, but after that 
everything is easy and the pupil relatively soon can sing 
the scales, at first of course learning C major. Since 
the pupils have learned the absolute pitch for middle 
c, or do, all the scales can be built up from C major by 
simply teaching the varying placing of the half steps, and 
drill is given until every major scale has been thoroughly 
learned and all can be sung at command, from C sharp 
around to C flat. A pupil can thus at will place himself 
in any scale by singing in thought first the key desired and 
then giving it aloud and getting the starting tone. This 
amazing mastery of the keys is said to be easily acquired, 
and with it transposition has little difficulty. 

Following this come exercises in intervals and accords, 
by which Dal croze means not merely the usual thirds, 
fifths, and so on, but all the notes between as well. Here 
are numerous exercises to bring out all the relations of 
the tones, and finally reversal of the accords. Then 
come the minor scales, on which a large part of the 
third-year training is spent. 

All this seems to have been worked out entirely from 
the empirical side, and it still lacks adequate theoretical 
expression. What little theory there is is as follows: 
Men have confused thoughts and undefined emotions 
because their bodies are undeveloped, are without natural 
rhythmical expression. But sensations must be disciplined 



438 The Child 

and impulse trained in order to develop any person- 
ality or give it free avenues of expression. Many per- 
sons have emotions which they cannot express in acts 
because they lack bodily control or do not know how to 
express them, and rhythmic gymnastics can help both 
of these classes. Rhythmic movements are not primarily 
either acting or dancing, but a means of freeing the mind. 
They are inevitably beautiful and harmonious, and are 
the basis of all art because they give rhythmic expression 
to our emotions. 

Rhythmic bodily movement, therefore, is the germ of 
art, the common source of all the musical arts on one 
side and the visual arts on the other. The human body 
is the point of departure for all forms of art, and we may 
properly suppose that in porportion as it is harmonious 
and rhythmical art will become high and noble. 

Turning now to music, it seems probable that at first 
language and music were not distinct, the cry being 
Origin of the common root from which the two have 
music developed in different ways. Music proper, 

or melody, seems to arise first in connection with the 
dance, and the dance in its original form was the reproduc- 
tion of the activities of existence or, it may be, a propitia- 
tion of the gods. Uniformly the dance takes a rhythmic 
character. At first it is performed in silence, but as the 
dancers are aroused they give vent to their feelings in 
more violent movements, and in cries, the cries naturally 
assuming a rhythmic character consonant with the 
movements. Thus the rude song is born, a song without 
words, and in almost a monotone. 

This theory fits in very well with what we can see of 
children's natural musical tastes. The development of 
melody and hamiony is much later than the apprecia- 
tion of rhythmical cries. Gurney says that the former 



Rhythm, Dancing, and Music 439 

does not appear until four or five years. We should 
expect kindergarten children, then, not to care so much 
about singing the melody as about keeping time. 

Small children are more easily terrified by loud sounds 
than by almost anything else. Preyer and Perez note 
that in the seventh and eighth weeks a child child's love 
listened to the singing of lullabies with much of noises 
pleasure, and showed an appreciation of piano playing 
by his vigorous movements and laughter at the loud 
notes. Children of six months show great enjoyment of 
music; at nine months some will reproduce musical tones. 
Perez also records the case of a child who sang himself 
to sleep when only nine months old. By the age of a 
year some will reproduce tones quite perfectly. Sigismund 
says that musical tones are imitated before spoken ones. 
Noises of all kinds, even the unpleasant, appeal to children, 
especially if there is any rhythmic arrangement, and they 
delight in reproducing them as far as possible. 

Children vary greatly among themselves and at dif- 
ferent ages in their ability to distinguish tones. We 
find the child who sings the scale in one tone Sensitiveness 
from c to c; and another who can sing the to tones 
chromatic scale with ease. Whether any given child is 
tone-deaf, or simply lacks training, can be told only by 
experiment, and, even if not up to the average, many 
a child's ability can be improved by practice. Heilig's 
child was not taught music but often heard her mother 
giving music lessons. At fourteen months she sang the 
whole scale alone and unprompted, and at fifteen and two 
thirds months sang it descending as well as ascending. 
At twenty-one months she sang seven songs, using la 
instead of words. In the twenty-third month she began 
to sit at the piano and play with the keys, and she 
thus learned the scales, various chords, and some tunes. 



440 



The Child 



Monroe collected data from i6i children under six 
years. He found that from four to five years 34 per cent of 
the boys and 59 per cent of the girls could learn the scale, 
and that at six 41 per cent of the boys and 7 1 per cent of the 
girls. The greatest difficulties came in perceiving the high 
notes, and songs were better remembered than scales. 

We might fairly question to what extent the difficulty 
with these children was due to the limited range of the 
Range of childish voice, which at six years is only 
child's voice f[ve tones. We have no data for American 
children, but the following table shows the range of 
German children's voices. It embodies tests by Paulsen 
on two thousand seven hundred and eighty-five boys 
from six to fifteen years of age and two thousand two 
hundred and fifty-nine girls from six to fourteen; and 
by Gutzmann on five hundred and seventy-five children. 
It shows the pitch of 75 per cent of these children at 
each age, the half notes representing the boys and the 
quarter notes the girls. 



AgeO 






1-2 



3-5 



=1= 
6 






-T^V 



-S^i 



-J- 
=1 = 



10 



11 



^- 

12 



13 



14 









15 



In children from six to nineteen years of age, .the 
least sensitive age is six, when the least perceptible 
difference of two tones is about one-quarter of a tone. 
Thence to nine years there is twice as much gain in 
sensitiveness as from nine to nineteen years; and after- 
ward a more gradual gain, with a break and retrogression 
at ten and at fifteen years. 

The actual tastes of children seem to have been little 
observed. Miss Gates had answers from two thousand 
children, one hundred boys and one hundred girls for 
each year from six to sixteen. 



Rhythm, Dancing, and Music 



441 



1. She found that 22 per cent of the girls and 12 per 
cent of the boys of seven years Hke best lullabies and 
baby songs, while 14 per cent of the girls and Songs liked 
7 per cent of the boys like home songs the ^y children 
best. "Home Sweet Home" is the favorite. Of the 
seven-year-old boys and girls 43 per cent like school songs 
the best; nature songs are the favorites. Twice as many 
boys as girls like negro songs. " Suwanee River" and 
"Massa's in the Cold, Cold Ground" are the favorites. 

2. ReHgious songs are best liked by two hundred 
and ninety-six girls and six hundred and ninety-six 
boys at six years; 23 per cent of the girls and 6 per cent 
of the boys at thirteen years ; 2 7 per cent of the girls and 
6 per cent of the boys at sixteen years, making an aver- 
age of 18 per cent. "Nearer my God" is the favorite. 

3. National songs are best liked by 13 per cent of the 
girls and 18 per cent of the boys at seven years; 29 per 
cent of the girls at twelve years ; 40 per cent of the boys 
at eight years. "America" and the "Star Spangled 
Banner" divide the honors here. Marsh gives this 
table of "The one song he liked best in all the world." 
The returns are from six thousand three hundred and 
thirty-eight children. The table is given in percentages. 

Boys 



Gr.^de 


School 


Sunday 
School 


Patriotic 


Street 


Home 


I 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

II 


43 
39 
29 
12 

7 
6 
II 
9 
3 
3 



10 
II 
8 
10 
II 

4 

10 

68 

I 



16 


26 
29 

40 
42 
30 
15 
48 
60 
58 
65 
25 


9 

9 

14 

21 

18 

17 
20 

9 
9 

5 
33 


9 
10 
10 
12 
12 
21 
10 

14 
26 

25 

25 



442 



The Child 



Girls 



Grade 


School 


Sunday 
School 


Patriotic 


Street 


Home 


I 

2 

3 

5 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

II 


43 
43 
39 
12 

9 
13 
i6 

3 
I 
o 


15 
10 
II 
15 
9 
19 

22 

I 

lO 

29 


13 
15 
25 
32 

37 

20 
32 
21 

47 

27 


6 

6 

8 

15 

17 

21 
2 

7 
4 




II 
II 

15 
24 
26 

17 
26 

35 
38 
44 



Boys and Girls 



Grade 


School 


Sunday 
School 


Patriotic 


Street 


Home 


I 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

II 


45 
42 
39 
19 
9 
7 
12 

13 
3 
2 



13 
16 

9 
14 
13 

7 
15 
16 

2 

7 
26 


23 
23 
31 
35 
41 
43 
37 
44 
59 
53 
26 


8 
8 
II 
16 
17 
17 
21 

5 
9 

5 
7 


10 
II 
12 

13 

18 

24 
14 
21 
27 

33 
41 



Many reasons are given why the favorite piece is 
Hkcd. As children grow older, more say it is because 
they like the music or words, and fewer because they 
have associations with it, or it is nice, pretty, or sweet. 
The associations are of all sorts — of home, Christmas or 
some holiday, with historical events, or simply with 
smell or some other sense. A very small percentage of 
the favorites are movement songs, and as a rule major 
keys are preferred to minor. 



Rhythm, Dancing, a n d Music 443 

It is interesting to note the changes in taste with 
advancing years. The school songs show these varia- 
tions : boys and girls, 43 per cent in first Changes in 
grade to 9 per cent and 16 per cent respec- t^ste 
tively in eighth grade, and none in eleventh grade. 
.S. S. songs, boys, 10% in ist grade, to 16% in nth grade. 

" " girls, 15% " " " 29% •• 

Patriotic songs show remarkable fluctuations in the 
liking of the boys and girls, as the table indicates. Street 
songs increase in number to the fourth grade; decrease 
sHghtly to the seventh and rapidly to the eleventh. 
They then rise suddenly to 33 per cent in the eleventh 
grade. 

With the girls the curve is of the same nature though 
of a smaller percentage, except that at the eleventh grade 
it decreases to o instead of rising. 

The percentage of home songs increases to sixth grade, 
falls in seventh grade, and then increases gradually. 

The subject of children's musical composition is one 
that is not considered nearly as often as children's draw- 
ings, and yet there would seem to be no rea- Songs by 
son in the nature of the case why children children 
should not be creators of songs as well as of landscapes. 

The first musical productions are not distinct from 
the beginning of speech. The child cries, howls, gurgles, 
and babbles, not only when he is hurt or pleased, but 
just to see what sounds he can make. 

Sometimes one set of sounds takes possession of him 
for a time, and he will seem unable to keep from repeat- 
ing it. Perez gives a case of a little girl who repeated 
"tira-tira" for two weeks. Children a little older delight 
in nonsense rimes, in chain rimes, in alliteration, and will 
make up all sorts of rimes and tunes for them. Children 
of all ages experiment in producing noises not only 



444 The Child 

with the vocal organs but also with any instruments 
they can get hold of. At first their song is monoto- 
nous, hardly to be distinguished from the speaking 
voice, but by the age of four or five years the two are 
well marked. 

There seems to be a genuine impulse to musical expres- 
sion in many children which, although modified by 
imitation, is still a true originality. 

William Piatt found that his children spontane- 
ously crooned melodic phrases, put words to music, 
imitated musical sounds, and so on, and both he 
and Koenig believe that children should create 
melodies from the beginning, just as they draw and 
model. 

So far as my knowledge goes, however, the only sys- 
tematized work in this direction is that under the charge 
of Mrs. Kern. Her account is so suggestive that it is 
given here in full, with some of the songs. 

Song Composition i 

That music is an important factor in the growth of 
the child's eesthetic nature is a fact generally conceded. 
Is it, however, practically made use of? Is the nursery, 
which we now realize must be artistic as well as whole- 
some, furnished with the means of producing beautiful 
sounds — failing the human voice, with the vox humana, 
or other soft-toned instrument? 

As early as he is shown beauty in color and form the 
child should have beauty in tone and melody given 
him. There are no unmusical children. Interest in 
musical expression is one of the natural resources of 
the child, and unconsciously he will awaken to a melodic 

iBy May Root Kern. 



Rhythm, Dancing, and Music 445 

conception through repetitions, in pure and gentle tone, 
of melodies suited to his understanding. This process 
cannot be begun too early. Having understood, the 
child possesses a mental picture which he seeks to 
express by humming or singing. This expression of an 
aesthetic impulse is as natural to the child as his ex- 
pression in color. Needing no utensil, it is simpler, 
and would be more readily used were his early envir- 
onment as full of tone as of color. The more he hears 
of this music, the more he assimilates and the more 
he has to express. And not alone through imitation. 
If he be given a poetic phrase which touches his imag- 
ination, he can give his own melodic conception of it; 
and the awakening of this creative faculty brings a 
joy which stimulates the growth of his whole aesthetic 
nature. 

There is nothing more precious to a child than his 
own creation, and to preserve his melodic thought he 
will wish to acquire a knowledge of the S5nTibols neces- 
sary to express it. The basis for a study of the science 
of music is formed by his desire to express various forms 
of melodic thought. He realizes the necessity for the 
controlled use of his fingers to express them beautifully 
on the keyboard, and grasps the necessity of manual 
drill. His whole study of the technique of piano playing 
is illumined, and the proper relationship of idea and 
its servant expression has been preserved. Problems 
introduced by the growing intricacy of his concep- 
tions — key relationships, transposition, harmony — are 
mastered with a natural motive, and, led by his own 
impulse, he is ready with open mind and heart to 
receive, according to his capacity, the riches which 
master-minds are still pouring into the music treasuries 
of the world. 

29 



446 The Child 

In the school, a problem to be coped with arises from 
the diversity of musical attainment in the groups. Chil- 
dren from non-musical environment are to be handled 
with others who are developed musically. To lessen 
the chasm, much thought is given to creating a musical 
atmosphere. The formal side of the work is made as 
melodious as possible, and all technical exercises are 
clothed in hamiony. The children have weekly oppor- 
tunity of hearing a short program of music by the best 
composers, performed by friends of the school, by 
teachers, or by pupils prepared through outside work. 
The older children have heard short and simple talks 
on the lives and work of the great masters, illustrated by 
piano and vocal selections. A large part of each period 
of work is spent in song-singing. The school has been 
divided into two choruses, one ranging from six to eight 
and a half years of age, the other from nine to thirteen. 
These choruses have sung melodies learned by rote in 
their group work, the older chorus having in its repertoire 
songs by Franz Schumann, Wagner, Reinecke, Hum- 
perdinck, and some of the best English composers. In 
connection with their work in Latin, they have learned 
a Latin song of nine stanzas and a shorter Christmas 
hymn; in connection with French, several chansons 
populaires and two old French rounds. The latter, 
being very simple in melody, have furnished a valu- 
able exercise in concentration. There being in this 
chorus a considerable proportion of children unable to 
sing a connected melody correctly, perfection in detail 
is impossible. The special aims, other than famili- 
arity with good songs and the memorizing of texts, 
have been bodily poise, deep breathing, careful enunci- 
ation, and a pure quality of tone. A picked chorus of 
twenty-five voices is now being arranged which will be 



■ Rhythm, Dancing, and Music 447 

trained to do some model singing for the benefit of the 
school. 

Owing to the wide differences in musical develop- 
ment, it was difficult to find a common ground for the 
work of each group as a whole. The technical work 
founded on short, original phrases sometimes failed to 
arouse interest in those children who but imperfectly 
grasped melodic idea. The proposition, however, to 
select a topic and write a complete composite song, 
which should express the genius of the group, brought 
a unity of impulse at once. It was supposed that 
the unmusical children would devote themselves to the 
text and leave the musical setting to the rest. But 
not so; the general enthusiasm awoke them to an over- 
flow of musical ideas, and a firm belief in their own 
phrase as given. Whatever of novelty the songs possess 
is owing to the odd intervals offered by these non- 
musical children. It was necessary to harmonize them 
attractively to gain their acceptance by the musical 
members of the group, who, left to themselves, would 
have given only the most obvious phrases and thus 
produced more commonplace results. 

After several successful songs had been composed, a 
group of children between seven and eight years, below 
the average in musical development, but having a strong 
feeling for rhythm, wrote the following, which is saved 
from monotony by the final phrase given by a boy almost 
tone-deaf. He offered the phrase, which was repeated 
on the piano as nearly as possible as he had given 
it. He objected, however, saying what was played 
was not what he intended to give. After repeated 
attempts, the teacher succeeded in discovering what 
he had persistently kept in his mind, but could not 
express. 



448 



T h e Child 



Autumn '93. 



CHRISTMAS MORNING 







1. One win-ter morn Be-fore the dawn, We woke and 'twas 

2. I bad a doll And she was small, My broth - er 



^:MA 



:=l: 



-# — •— :z? 



Christ-mas day, .... 
had a yacht, . . 



The girls and the boj's Quick 
The ba - by, too, Had 




siiPiP^ia 



ran to their toys, And all 
some- thing new — A lit 



6^- 

be - gan to play, 
tie dog named Spot. 



It was at first thought that the six-year-old children 
were too young to carry a thought through the several 
periods (occurring but twice a week) required to finish 
a song. At their request, however, they were allowed 
to undertake the task, and evinced as much continuity 
of thought and purpose as the older children. 

In writing the texts for songs, the youngest children, 
as soon as the idea of rhythm and rime is gained, insist 
upon making consecutive lines rime as in the "Valen- 
tine Song." They free themselves gradually from rime 
limitations, as: 

"The children will go 

Out in the snow 
And have some jolly fun. 

They'll make big balls 

While the snow falls, 
Until a snowman's done." 



Rhythm, Dancing, and Music 
VALENTINE SONG 



449 






-4=^t 



— ^— 



tj -0- -0- 

1. Val - en - tine's day is 

2. I'll send my friend a 

4- 



near 
val 



ly here, We 
en - tine, The 



=:1=q: 






zA 



i3- 



rP 1 1 • ^- 



-• — *-' — * — F * — * — — *- 



hope the postman will bring lis cheer; We'll clap our hands for 
pret-tiest one that I can find; My cons -in will send 




1 






:^:1: 



joy when he brings The ros-es, and doves, and pretty things, 
one to me, And then how hap-py we shall be. 



:^=J=^' 









ff: 



=i 



-zd- 
-sst- 



]] 



45° 



The Child 



And finally, able to conceive of the stanza as a whole, 
they realize that only a minimum of rime is necessary. 

The twelve-year-old children completed two lines of 
a stanza for a winter song, but the effort was then 
abandoned, there being too much self-consciousness in 
the group to admit of free expression. Later their 
creative impulse triumphed, and they produced a song 
for Lincoln's birthday : 



LINCOLN 



winter "99. 




:^=q=: 



m 



1. 'Twas in a small log cab - in, One Feb-ru - a - ry 

2. He rose to be a states - man Of ver - y great re- 




i=FE 



i 



--i-=X 



i:^: 



d: 



-<9— 



day, 
novvu. 



A lit - tie Lin-col n ba 
His wis - dom saved the Un 



by 
ion, 






In a 

And 



Rhythm, D and n g, and M u sic 451 



E5^± 



m 



3^ 



i^ES 



small rude era - die lay; When at the age of 
sla - v'ry he put down; 'Tvvas in the spring of 






— 1— — c- 



nc: 



:3i|: 



^ 



&-: 



-J- 



:t; 



^- 



:j=1: 



3=r?- 



EE 



::1=i: 



twelve, By night he stud - led law, And 

six - ty - five That mes - sen - gers rode fast To 



=]: 



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t 



=g_=^=q=tj: 



:t 



-f * 



i 



^ 



:t=1i: 



-»^ — #- 



i::^^: 



:t: 



when the morning dawned a-new, A-gain took up his saw. 
bring the news of Lincoln's death, — The noble life had passed. 



±*=i=«=@3=H 



'-3, 



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452 The C h i I d 

The eight-year-old children followed the song on 
Lincoln with a song on Washington. 

Both of these songs have been sung by the younger 
chorus at the respective anniversaries for two years, 
and are asked for at other times. It would be difficult 
to find songs written by adults which would appeal to 
the younger children's minds and hearts as do these, in 
spite of their crudities. The simplicity of thought 
and expression in the text, the sweetness and vitality 
of the melodies, exactly suit their needs. Practical 
trial for over a year has shown their preference for some 
of these school songs to the best child songs written by 
adults that have been presented to them. This applies 
to children from six to nine years of age — a time when 
they are not ready for involved idea or melody, and yet 
resent singing about what little dewdrop felt or little 
pussy willow said. . . . 

As Easter approached, the six-year-old children, 
filled with anticipation of the day, asked to write a 
song about it. One child gave the first line with its 
melody; others quickly followed with the second and 
third lines. The fourth, however, required persistent 
effort before the requirements of rhythm and rime were 
met. The children showed no diminution of interest 
in wrestling vith the problem. 



EASTER SONG 




East - er day is coming soon, The rabbits will be here and lay: 

Id: 




In the gar-den we shall find Eggs to paint and give a-way. 



Rhythm, Dane i n g, and Music 453 



Attempts made by the youngest classes of this school 
year have resulted equally well : 

SANTA CLAUSE 




San -ta Claus, San- ta Claus is coming,-ting - a - ling! The 



X 



Ei5E# 



:J^^= 



* — :*' 



m: 



tJ 



^ 



rein -deer are rac- ing and the lit - tie bells ring; He's 



-La J ^_ 1 U 1 



A— 



bringing toys for lit-tle bo)'S, And dolls for lit -tie girls, And 

>- — N — s — N — ^ 



=Ei 



a 



±t 



:d=t4= 



bring-ing for the ba - by A wool -ly lamb with curls. 

The group composed entirely of musically developed 
children was the last to produce a connected song. The 
original scheme of work — the study of selected songs 
with its detail, and the learning of symbols for their 
own short melodic phrases — contented them. Emula- 
tion, however, urged them to write, and they undertook 
the task as imitators, thus with less exhilaration than 
the others showed. 

Later, a second impulse, more genuine than the first, 
resulted in one of the best of the school songs : 

iTo musicians these songs are unusually interesting from their 
close resemblance to early folk songs and narrative ballads, especially 
to the early German and English folk songs. "Santa Claus," 
for instance, might be taken intact from an old choral, for its sim- 
plicity, its movement, and the feeling for minor in the sixth, seventh, 
and eighth bars. A. E. T. 



454 



The Child 



Spring "99. 



BOAT SONG 



-A 



:± 



V— ^' 



-N-n 



1. The boat is rock - iiig, rock - ing, While we're on the 

2. The sun sets in the ev - 'iiing,And glit-terson the 



m 



jz:4=q=:^=piz:jiji^=n: 



^::p4j=1=S=:=:;=:=tiz:lzSiJiqiJ=:l 




i^rt 



-0- 







:4=z:±zi 
-• • — 



-I ' 0- — • — • ww-r^' 

^-v — 9—]/—^-] 

The wind blows the sails gen-tly on, And 
Gulls dive un-der the \va - ter, Then 







-01- 



-(2^ 



-15>- 

r — 






Id: 



spray dashes up to nie. 
fly ill the air so free, 



jizc 



ni 



—N — ^ — ^ — ^— 



The lit- tie mermaids are 
Swiftly up to their 




miE 



t=? 



Rhythm, Dancing, and M u sic 455 




-^-^^- 



Float - iiig far a - way; 

Up - on the rocks so high; 



-• — I — .-«- 

—±9--l: 



:t 



11 



:4: 



-- — 1-^ — P — ^ 



^H- 



Deep, deepin the wa - ter, I see the sea-weed sway. 
There they stay in the dark-iiess,Till inorning's glow is nigh. 

^— n^ ^P nn '^^«- 




•— 1-#- -#- -H- -0- •-^-* • I 1 



V- 






8va. 



Composition work with the children has value in 
proportion to its being an untrammeled expression of 
their own musical consciousness. The teacher's task 
is to encourage through beautifying the child's thought 
by harmonic background. A stenographic report of 
the process of writing the text for a song by a group 
eleven years of age is an illustration of the method of 
procedure : 

The following three lines had been made the week 
before : 



456 The C h il d 

The icicles hang from the windows high, 
And the wind goes shrieking. and howHng by; 
The bright moonhght shines down on the snow, 

Some one wanted an adjective for snow and suggested 
"glittering," which was objected to on account of rhythm. 

And one little rabbit goes jumping below, 
was suggested for the last line. Some of the children 
objected to having the rabbit, saying that it was such 
a cold night, he would not be out, and suggested instead: 

And hunters through the woods do go. 
Another child suggested that the hunters would not be 
out at night; another insisted that that would be just 
the time they would be returning from a deer hunt. 
Some one wanted: 

And hunters walking about below. 
Another suggested substituting "Indians" for "hunt- 
ers." Another suggestion was : 

No flowers are blooming down below. 
From time to time the teacher re-read the lines, so that 
they could get the rhythm, and, after a while, none of 
the lines suggested after the first being regarded as equal 
to the first, they went back to that. "Little," "lonely," 
"hopping," and "father" were suggested as describing 
the rabbit. "Lonely" was finally accepted as best 
suited to the verse. "Hunting" was substituted for 
"jumping," as more suggestive, and the line as finally 
accepted read: 

And one lonely rabbit goes hunting below. 
The teacher suggested that, as the first verse was about 
night, the second be about the day. 

Some of the children wanted a chorus. The teacher 
suggested that this was not a jolly song, so that it did 
not lend itself easily to a chorus; but if one appropriate 
could be thought up, it could be used. None could be 



Rhythm, Dancing, and Music 457 

thought of at the time, so the second verse was begun. 

The first Hne suggested was: 

As the day grows near and the night grows far. 
"Comes," and finally "draws," was suggested in place 
of "grows," and "passes" in place of "grows far." 
"Passes away" was objected to on account of the number 
of syllables. 

The teacher suggested that, as they were going from a 
night verse to a day verse, it would be well to put the 
night idea first. It was then given: 

As the night disappears and the day draws near. 

The next line was at once suggested : 

Again the cheerful birds we hear. 
The next two lines were suggested as: 

Jumping about on the fleecy snow, 
Hopping around do the snow birds go. 

One of the children suggested that the snow birds are 
about a house, and she wanted the song about a lonely 
place on the mountains. The last two lines were objected 
to on the ground that birds had just been mentioned. 
The child who proposed the line said she was simply 
telling what the birds did. Then this was opposed on 
the ground that in the first verse the rabbit had been 
doing about the same thing. 

The teacher suggested that they refer again to the 
rabbit and tell what became of him in the day. 

And the same little rabbit goes hopping away. 
For he 's found something to feed him that day, 
was suggested. "Same" was objectedto," little "suggested 
in its place, and finally ' ' gray ' ' accepted. ' ' For ' ' objected 
to, and "because" rejected, and finally ''with" accepted. 
One of the children wanted to suggest *' manger" for "to 
eat," saying that French words were often used in a song. 
The whole song, as finally accepted, read: 



458 



The Child 



A WINTER SONG 



Winter 1900. 




1. The i - ci -cles hang from the vvin-dows high, And the 

2. As the night dis appears and the day draws near, A - 




wind goes shriek-ing and howl - ing by; The 



gain the cheer 



ful birds we hear; And the 




bright moon - light shines down on the snow, And 
lit - tie gray rab - bit goes hop-ping a - way, With 




Rhyth m, Dancing, and M u si c 459 




-»- 

one lone - ly rab - bit goes hunt-ing be - low. 
some-thing to eat for the rest of the day. 




The melody of this song was given without criticism 
by the four members of the group present, one musical 
phrase from each child in succession, so that text and 
song were completed in two half-hour periods. The 
smaller the group, the less confusion arises from various 
phrases being given at the same time. To avoid this 
confusion it was at first attempted to give each child in 
turn an opportunity to offer a phrase, with the result 
that none were offered. The work cannot be done 
under formal restrictions. 

As no record has been kept of rejected phrases in the 
process of writing a song, only the method of procedure 
can be given here. 

After the children have selected their topic and written 
their text, a musical setting for the first line is called for. 
A quick response usually follows. If several- phrases are 
given, the children choose their favorite. The second 
phrase, suggested by the first, follows readily. The third 
usually presents more difficulty. It is unconsciously 
realized that this in a four-phrase song gives the character 
to the whole and should contain a climax, and it is criti- 
cized and labored over, sometimes during several periods. 
The final phrase is usually an obvious one; the readiest 



460 T h c C h i I d 

child gives it, and others remark it is just what they were 
going to offer. OriginaHty in a final phrase — as in the 
Winter Song — is greeted with enthusiasm. 

That composition work gives the children a grasp of 
rhythm is shown by the way they handle it in mak- 
ing their songs effective. A seven-year-group completed 
a Snowman Song in 3 -pulse measure rhythm and sang 
it to the school. Later they felt that its flowing rhythin 
was not suited to the requirements of the words, and found 
by experiment that by using the more energetic 4-pulse 
the character of their melody became what was desired. 

The twelve-year-old children after completing their 
rollicking Fourth of July song experienced a reaction. 
They felt they had not expressed their highest musical 
consciousness, and wished at once to begin a song into 
which they would put their best effort. As the Fourth 
of July song had met with enthusiastic approval from the 
school, this impulse showed a normal growth and as such 
was encouraged. That it was genuine was proved by 
the children's slow and critical work, lasting through 
the remainder of the spring quarter, resumed after the 
summer vacation, and carried on through more than 
one half of the autumn quarter. They suggested and 
directed the piano accompaniment at important points, 
and, after the song was completed and sung to the school, 
further embellished it by adding second-voice part 

No claim is made that these are productions of genius, 
any more than the average child's drawings are. The 
point is that they compare favorably with his drawings, 
and even with many school songs. Above all, they, 
like all constructive work, cultivate the appreciation of 
the details and beauties of a piece that can never be 
reached simply by singing other people's productions. 



Rhythm, D an c i n g, a n d M u s i c 461 

To discuss the various methods of teaching singing 
in school and out, the songs for children, and so on, is a 
task for the specialist in music. We cannot, however, 
omit Dr. Hall's plea for less technique in public-school 
work and far more singing of songs, with something of the 
historical setting of each song in order to rouse enthu- 
siasm for it. Very few children will have much use for 
singing by note, but all of them ought to know the national 
songs and certain great hymns, love songs and lyrics, 
and folk songs, together with the setting which has made 
them significant in the national life. 

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462 The Child 

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Rhythm, Dancing, and M u s i c 463 

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Tone Perception and Music Interest of Young Children. Ped. 

Sent., 1903, Vol. X, 144-146. 
Mott, F. W. Brain and the Voice in Speech and Song. Harper, 

1910, 112 pp. 
Myers, C. S. A Study of Rhythm in Primitive Music. Brit. Jour. 

Psy., 1905, Vol. I, 397-406. 



464 T h e C hi I d 

Oldys, H. W. Parallel Growth of Bird and Human Music. 

Harper's Mag., 1902, Vol. CV, 474-478. 
Phillips, Paul C. Eurhythmies of J. Dalcroze. Am. Phys. Ed. 

Rev., Mar. 1913, 142-146. 
Piatt, W. Child Music. Simpkin Marshall, Lond., 1905, 37 pp. 
Regal, M. L, The Study of the Appreciation of Music in the High 

School of Springfield, Mass. Proc. N. E. A., 1910, 803-808. 
Sabine, W. C. Melody and the Origin of the Musical Scale, 

Science, 1908, Vol. XXVII, 841-847. 
Salter, S. Values in Vocal Music. Mus. Teach. Nat. Assn., 1907. 

164-172. 
Scott, W. E, D. The Inheritance of Song in Passerine Birds. 

Science, 1904, Vol. XIX, 957-959. 
Sears, C. H. Studies in Rhythm. Ped. Sem., 1901, Vol. VIII, 3-44. 

Psychology of Rhythm. Am. Jour. Psy., Jan. 1902, 28-61. 
Seashore, C. E. Suggestion for Tests on School Children. Ed. 

Rev., 1901, Vol. XXII, 69-82. 
Seashore, C. E., and Jenner, E. A. Training the Voice by the Aid 

of the Eye in Singing, Jour. Ed. Psy., 1910, Vol. I, 311-320. 
Sharp, C. J. English Folk-Song. Lond., 1907, 143 pp. 
Sharp, Cecil. Music and Folk-songs in Elementary Schools. 

Child Life, 1906, 79-83. 
Smith, Margaret K. Rhythmus und Arbeit. Phil. Sludien, 1900, 

Bd. 16, 197-305. 
Squire, C. R. A Genetic Study of Rhythm. Am. Jour. Psy., 

July 1901, Vol. XII, 492-589. 
Taylor, D. C. Psychology of Singing.' Macmillan, N. Y., 1908,373 pp. 
Triplett and Sanford. Rhythm and Meter. Am. Jour. Psy., 1901, 

Vol. XII, 361-387. 
Uetzel, Wm. A. The School Orchestra. Jour, of Ed., 1909, 153. 
Van Broekhoven, J. Music. Kgn. Mag., 1909, June, 309-315; 

Sept., 5-6. 
Wallaschek, R. Primitive Music. Longmans, Lond., 1893, 289 pp. 
Weld, H. P. An Interpretative Study of Musical Enjoyment. 

Clark College Monthly, 191 1, Vol. I, 216-219. 
The Mechanism of the Voice and Its Hygiene. Ped. Sem., 

1910, Vol. XVII, 143-159. 
White, R. T. Music in the Kindergarten Child. Child Life, 

1910, Vol. XII, 207-210. 
For additional references on Dancing, see the chapter on Social 
Aspects of Education. 



CHAPTER XIX 
Drawing 

1. Before reading this chapter, draw the story of 
Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Then compare with 
the pictures and descriptions given in the Observa- 
chapter. tio^s 

2. Make a collection of drawings of the story of Goldi- 
locks. Observe these precautions: 

(i) Tell the story to the children just before they draw, 
so that it will be vividly present to their minds. 

(2) Give them as much choice in the material for 

drawing as possible — crayon, black and colored 
pencil, paints, large and small sheets of paper. 

(3) Give them as much time as they want, but have 

the pictures finished at one sitting. 

(4) In the case of little children, label at the time any 

ambiguous objects. 

3. Make a collection of children's spontaneous draw- 
ings, especially of the very first ones made by the child 
of eighteen months or so. Note how much encouragement 
the child received, and how much criticism and instruction. 

4. Keep a dated record of the child's likes and dislikes 
of colors and bright objects. 

As far back as we can penetrate, ancient peoples always 
had a love for bright objects, or for rare or curious things, 
and always loved to decorate themselves. ^^^g ^^^ 
Among savage people of to-day there are beauty 
the same desires. Many motives unite to universal 
strengthen these feelings, such as the desire for admir- 
ation from the opposite sex, and the instinct of property; 

465 



466 The Child 

but there seems also to be a spontaneous love for bright 
and glittering things, that is the germ of the aesthetic 
sense. 

What the origin of artistic creation or expression was 
is still much disputed. It is so divorced from practical 
values, so apart from everyday life, that many have con- 
sidered it a sort of excrescence that cannot be explained 
by natural laws. It seems most reasonable, however, 
to suppose that it was at first the occupation of an idle 
hour when the primitive man's supply of food was abun- 
dant, when he had rested, and when his mind recalled in 
thought the previous experiences of the chase or of war. 
Then, in the song and the dance, he reproduced the catch- 
ing and killing of the prey; or with a sharp stone drew 
them upon his hunting knife. 

Both of these interests appear in little children; they 
love to hoard up bright things and to deck themselves 
with them; they reproduce in play and sometimes in 
drawing their own experiences, although this first drama, 
song, or drawing is crude, and the love for it often inter- 
mittent. To "trace the character of the growth of these 
interests is our present object. 

The subject of children's artistic sense includes properly 
drawing, painting, modeling, music, and story-telling. 
Only drawing and music can be considered here, with 
occasional references to the other branches of art, and it 
should be understood that it is impossible to ascertain 
what the child's development would be if he were entirely 
free from adult influences. 

The subject of drawing falls naturally into two chief 
divisions, (i) appreciation and (2) construction. Under 
the first we shall also include the various observations 
on the color sense of children. 

In testing the color sense it is necessary not to confuse 



Drawing 467 

the child's lack of a color name with inability to discrimi- 
nate the color or shade. Tests in which the selection 
depends upon the use of color terms, either by the teacher 
or the child, are therefore open to some question, and we 
will omit them here, as there are numerous others. Bald- 
win's tests upon his child have stimulated various observers 
to similar tests, using all colors and paying great atten- 
tion to the luminosity. The most extensive tests are 
those by Holden and Bosse upon two hundred children. 
They placed square colored papers on a gray background, 
and before beginning the experiment, made picking up 
papers a kind of game, to give practice. The tests proper 
showed that before the sixth month few children reacted 
to any color, but in the seventh and eighth months most 
of them reacted to red, orange, and yellow. At nine 
months there was a slow reaction in some cases to green, 
blue, and violet, and by ten or twelve months often an 
equal reaction to all colors. In another test ribbons of 
the six spectral colors were laid out, and the order in 
which they were chosen was noted with babies from 
seven to twenty-four months old. It was the same — - 
red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet. With three- and 
four-year-old children blue was the preferred color, and 
from four to eight years this preference increased until 
at eight it was preferred by nearly all. The red end, that 
is, is nearly always preferred up to two years, but scarcely 
ever at four; the blue end is preferred by one third of 
the three- year-olds, and increases steadily to thirteen 
years. Schuy ten's tests on 4,242 four- to nine-year-old 
school children do not show any such predominance of 
one end. He used squares of spectral colors, and found 
the following percentages of favorite colors, indicated 
by the children pointing to the one they liked best. 
Four- to nine-year-old boys: red, 26.2; violet, 20.7; blue, 



468 The Child 

16.1; yellow, 14.2; orange, 7.6; green, 5.7; black, 4.8; 
white, 4.1. For girls the first four came in the same 
order as for the boys, and then green, orange, -black, and 
white. For the ten- to fifteen-year-old boys the order was 
blue, red, violet, yellow, green, black, orange, white; for the 
girls, blue, red, violet, green, yellow, black, white, orange. 

Engelsperger and Ziegler tested two hundred six-year- 
old children by the matching method, and found the 
following order of frequency in discriminating: orange, 
99 per cent; lilac, purple, and rose, 97 per cent; violet, 
96 per cent; bright blue, 92 per cent; dark blue and blue 
green, 91 per cent; dark yellow, 88 per cent; green blue, 
85 per cent; dark red and bright yellow, 76 per cent; 
dark gray, 75 per cent; light gray, 74 per cent; light yel- 
low, 70 per cent; dark and Hght brown, 68 per cent; dark 
and light green, 67 per cent; light red, 64 per cent; scar- 
let red, 57 per cent. When colored objects were used 
instead of paper squares, about the same results were 
obtained. In still another test color preferences were 
called for and were found to be much the same for boys 
and girls, as follows: lilac, purple, 20 per cent; dark blue, 
17 per cent; violet, 15 per cent; bright yellow and orange, 
8 per cent each; light blue, yellow, green, dark red, and 
white, 5 per cent each; scarlet, 4 per cent. Their color 
aversions were as follows for boys: black, 48 per cent, 
then light gray, light brown, dark gray, dark red, rose, 
dark brown, and white. Jastrow collected data at the 
Chicago Fair as to favorite colors of adults, and found 
that blue was the favorite for men, and red for women, 
with blue a close second (forty-five hundred records in all). 

Miss Shinn summarizes the data on the color sense of 
the first three years thus: for several months after birth 
the child is probably insensitive to color; during the 
second six months color sensations are felt, beginning 



Drawing 469 

with the red end of the spectrum and progressing to the 
violet end, with positive proof that all of them are per- 
ceived before the eighteenth month. By the third year 
the child has all the color perceptions of the adult and 
can learn their names, but probably has no feeling for 
color harmonies. At this age the "cold" colors may be 
as well liked as the "warm" ones. 

Sully thinks that the love of flowers is the nearest ap- 
proach of the child to pure esthetic enjoyment, although 
different qualities attract different children. With some 
the enjo5mient is almost entirely one of smell ; with others, 
a love of personal adornment. It seems to be much the 
same with very small boys and girls, but later the boys 
learn to despise their leanings toward such things. 

In all this, the child follows, in the main, the race 
development: bright or gaudy colors before delicate 
ones, and the utilitarian value of objects before the 
cesthetic. This appears again in the fact that few chil- 
dren care about landscape beauty. The sublimity of 
moimtain or of sea arouses only fear, and the beautiful 
and lovely are lost in the child's interest in some detail 
that appeals to him. 

At first the baby acts like an animal with regard to 
representation of objects. He thinks the reflection in 
the glass is a real thing, as the animal does Love of 

the well-painted picture, and as the savage pictures 

thinks that his reflection in the water is his spirit-double. 

At a very early age, even as early as eight months, some 
children learn to recognize pictures, and they react to 
them as to realities. The discrimination in such cases 
may be quite fine. Miss Shinn's niece, when fourteen 
months old, picked her father out of a group of nine, 
although the face was scarcely more than one-fourth of 
an inch in diameter. This recognition, however, is a 



470 The Child 

very different thing from recognizing the picture as a 
picture, that is, as a symbol or copy only, of no use in 
itself. Children do not learn this nearly as readily. 
Even at four years we sometimes see them trying to feed 
the picture. One boy at this age saw a picture of people 
going to church. The next day on seeing it he exclaimed 
in surprise because they were not yet there. Miss Shinn's 
niece, at the age of three, saw a picture of a chamois 
defending her kid from an eagle, and put her hand between 
them to defend the kid. At the age of two she tried to 
lift the painted branch that lay across a lamb in a picture. 

We see the same thing in the tendency to consider a 
drama as a reality, in the confusing of the make-believe 
Santa Claus with the real one, and so on. Only by slow 
degrees does the child learn to take one object as rep- 
resenting another, and as having no value in itself. The 
use of symbols seems to be an acquired power, not a 
natural one, and at first there is confusion of the symbol 
with the reality for which it stands, in proportion as the 
feeling is strong. We see this illustrated again and again 
in adult life, in religious observances. 

Whether children at any given age recognize clearly 
the difference between the picture and the object or not, 
Children's their likes are interesting to us from the 
preferences standpoint of schoolroom decorations. Dr. 
O'Shea's observations, at first glance, are rather discour- 
aging. He found that the children, as a rule, cared 
nothing for the reproductions of classics. Colored pic- 
tures, even the crudest chromos, and "cunning" pictures 
— little children and animals playing — were always chosen, 
except when Santa Claus or the Mother and Child were 
present. In many cases when asked what pictures were 
in their schoolrooms the children would be able to name 
only one or two out of a large number. The others, 



Drawing 471 

apparently, had made no impression upon them. They 
were over their heads figuratively as well as literally. If 
this be true of cliildren generally, the problem of school- 
room decoration is hardly as simple as many people think. 

We are wont to assume that, given the money and a 
knowledge of classical painting and sculpture, a per- 
fectly equipped school will result. I have been in several 
schools that to the adult eye are wonderfully artistic in 
their decorations, considering the scanty means at the 
teacher's disposal. But how much do the children get 
out of it? The same question might be asked about 
many of our kindergarten rooms. 

Now, we are not reduced to nothingness if we do pay 
attention to the children's tastes. There are the Madon- 
nas, and the many beautiful pictures of little children. 
In animal life the paintings of Landseer and Rosa Bonheur 
make a good beginning, and there are many others. We 
need not lower our standards of the assthetic, but simply 
change our subjects, according to the interests of the 
children. If this were carefully carried out, the pictures 
in the eighth-grade room would be quite different in sub- 
jects from those of the kindergarten, instead of both 
reflecting only the teacher's tastes. 

A more practical aspect of the liking for pictures is 
brought out by Mr. Lukens. He says that children 
are interested especially in pictures that have stories 
connected with them, and frequently are interested in 
them only when the story is told. He suggests, accord- 
ingly, that the pictures in primers should stimulate the 
child's curiosity and so arouse a keen desire to learn 
how to read. 

In considering childish creations or inventions, we 
should properly include much more than their drawings, 
but we can only touch upon these other things here. 



472 The Child 

All such forms of activity are very closely related to play, 
in so far as they are spontaneous, but in the adult, at 
least, they are distinct from it in that they involve a 
social aspect not essential to play. 

Dewey says that the artist differs from the artisan 
in that he sees in his work its social value, and sees 
himself as a medium for the expression of social forces. 
That is, the shoemaker who appreciates the social possi- 
bilities in shoes would become an artist. 

The child at first makes no distinction between the fine 
and the useful arts. Only by degrees does he separate 
the value to himself from the general value; the useful 
from the beautiful. His first activities are controlled by 
his own enjoyment of them and not by any results that 
are objectively useful to him or to otheis. This is play 
par excellence. 

Lay made some very interesting observations on twenty- 
eight boys and twenty-eight girls of six years who had been 
Child's love in school eight weeks. Each was given a piece 
of modeling of clay and told to do whatever he pleased with 
it. Within ten minutes only the two stupidest children had 
done nothing. The others were making things, and in an 
hour they had made eighty-six objects. After an hour of 
work most of them preferred to stay at their desks model- 
ing to taking recess, and did not begin to show fatigue 
until they had worked an hour and a half. The objects 
modeled were such things as an altar, sausage, steamer, 
hen, elephant, swan, pig, apple, milk can, bed. None seem 
to have made the human form, and Lay found no relation 
to the children's picture books. As a rule, the better 
pupils chose the more difficult objects, but some of the 
poorer pupils showed imsuspected power in this field. 

The most exhaustive study of children's drawings is 
that of Kerschensteiner. He based his conclusions upon 








T-> o 



9>^9\ 



Ki.Ni.i Ki.AKiHN Pictures* 

Character Per cents Character Per cents Character Per cents 

Scenes i; Series I Bears 68 

Fragments 8l Houses 75 Girl 6g 

Interiors I Trees 37 Bears and Girl 46 



* About one hundred children from each grade were asked to draw the story of Goldi- 
locks and the Three Bears. This series shows the average of each grade. FlAtO X 



Drawing 473 

three hundred thousand drav/ings of fifteen thousand 
six- to fourteen-year-old children in the Munich schools, 
chosen at random, and twenty-three hundred children 
who showed special ability in drawing. These children 
were all required to make drawings of certain specified 
persons; objects, and scenes, and to decorate certain 
objects such as a plate and book cover. His results are 
in harmony with those in spontaneous drawing and may 
be very briefly indicated thus: before the seventh year 
94 per cent of the children draw what they know rather 
than what they see, with little reference to proportion; 
then comes a silhouette stage, positions being selected 
so that two dimensions can express them; third comes 
perspective, but few reach this stage without instruction, 
and barely half can learn it before ten. At first there 
is complete lack of ability to represent spacial relations 
and various devices are resorted to, giving maplike effects, 
turning the paper about, and so on, with, at about the 
ninth year for boys and the twelfth for girls, some success. 
Fairly perfect pictures rarely come before the fifteenth 
year, and then only with the help of copies. Graphic 
presentations of space are far better done by boys than 
by girls. Decoration of surfaces seems to be quite dis- 
tinct from drawing proper, and appears early. After 
eight years boys and girls differ so markedly that they 
should have separate classes. 

When we consider what children spontaneously draw, 
we have one valuable way of discovering their inter- 
ests. Actually they seem to draw almost What 
everything that they have ever seen, but children 
certain prominent interests also appear. ^^^ 
The observations that have been made give these results : 
Little children, as a rule, do not draw objects that are 
before them. Of objects that were absent, j\$ per cent 



474 The Child 

drawn between five and six were human figures, 23 per cent 
animals, 35 per cent plants and flowers, 32 per cent houses, 
40 per cent still life, 5 per cent conventional design, 3 per 
cent ornamental ; between fourteen and seventeen years or- 
nament and design rose to 8 and 3 7 per cent ; human figures 
made up 5 per cent, animals 10 per cent, plants 1 1 per cent, 
and houses 4 per cent. These were drawings made in 
school, and the same things appear in 1,232 spontaneous 
drawings. If we put together all the pictures containing 
human figures, they aggregate nearly three fourths of the 
entire niunber. Figures in motion are more commonly 
drawn than figures at rest, and show greater ease. 

Dr. O'Shea's observations also confinn these as re- 
gards ornament. He found that children under five 
never tried to draw the accessories of a figure; 50 per 
cent of those eight years old tried, and 87 per cent of 
those sixteen years old. Miss Flanders's observations 
show the same thing. 

Mr. Lukens again presents for our consideration the 
practical value of such spontaneous drawing. He advo- 
cates it as a harmless method of inoculation against real 
escapades. That is, he appears to think that the boy 
who draws vividly the various scenes in the life of Dare- 
devil Dick of Coyote Range will have no desire thereafter 
to run away from home and live out some of the adventures 
about which he has read. Possibly a good drawing of 
himself smoking, swearing, etc., will take the place of the 
reality, and he will escape the temptations of craps and 
playing for keeps by picturing his defeat in them! 

However this may be, there is little doubt that draw- 
ing is often a good test of the child's understanding 
of the words he uses. Doubtless you are familiar with 
the child's pictorial rendering of "The Old Oaken Bucket" 
— a circle for the well; three buckets, for the old oaken 




First Grade Picture 



Character Per cents Character 

Scenes 35 Series. 



Fragments 6; Houses 84 Girl. 



Interiors. 



Trees 55 



Per cents Character Per cents 

Bears 69 

SO 



Jears and Girl 32 



Character Per cents 

Scenes 88 

Fragments 8 

Interiors 2 



Second Grade Picture 

Character Per cents 

Series o 

Houses 9J 

Trees 6S 



Character Per cents 

Bears 61 

Girl 69 

Bears and Girl 59 



Plate U 



Drawing 



475 



bucket, the iron-bound bucket, and the moss-covered 
bucket; and a number of dots representing the "loved 
spots that my infancy knew." Again, most sketches of 
Jack and Jill show them as twin brothers. 

In tracing the development of a child's drawing a very 
neat parallel has been worked out between it and speech, 
thus : 



SPEECH 

1. Automatic cries and reflex 
or impulsive sounds. 

2. Imitation of sounds, but 
without meaning. 

3. Understanding of words 



DRAWING 

1. Automatic and aimless 
scribble. 

2. Scribbling localizations; im- 
itation of movement of hands. 

3. Same, with only simplest 



without speaking, except such localization of features by scrib- 

words as names. bling. 

4. Repetition of words as mere 4. Copying from others to 

sounds when said to him (brief see how to get right effect in 

stage and of little importance). use of lines. 



5. Use of words to express 
his thoughts. 

6. Study of grammar and 
rhetoric. 



5. Picture writing, illustrated 
stories, etc. 

6. Study of technique of 
drawing. 



Scribbling 



Baldwin's observations on his daughter have been 
confirmed by later observers, and may be given here 
as illustrating the development outlined 
above. Beginning with the nineteenth and 
extending to the twenty-seventh month, he found that 
the drawing was only the vaguest imitation of the move- 
ment of his hand, no connection being recognized between 
the hand work and the lines. Helen could identify the 
copy, but not her own drawing unless she remembered 
what she had been trying to make. The same di awing 
would serve for a man or an animal, as she pleased. 
Sometimes also a child will begin scribbling either aimlessly 
or with the intention of making some object, and will 
accidentally happen upon some unexpected form. He will 



476 The Child 

then adopt this and copy it again and again. For instance, 
a small boy happened to make curls that looked like 
smoke, whereupon he exclaimed in glee, "Puff, puff!" and 
made more. The only development here is in the freedom 
of movement. The lines change from angular straight 
lines to curves; instead of running all one way, reverse 
movements with loops occur, although the lines are almost 
always horizontal or sloping sHghtly to the right like ordi- 
nary handwriting. As would be expected, the entire arm 
is used at first, and later the wrist and finger movements. 
In the twenty-seventh month Helen got the idea of 
making each part of the figure, and from that time 

there was the attempt to make a copy, to 
Copying - „ . , 1 • . 01 , 

follow an idea or object, bhe saw the con- 
nection between the pencil marks and the thing that 
she wanted to make, and now directed her attention to 
the marks instead of to the movements. This is the time 
when drawing or the representation of an object really 
begins. Up to this time the use of the pencil has been only 
a form of exercise ; now, it is a new language. It shows one 
interesting feature in common with language, and that is, 
that the first drawing tends to stand for all things. Thus 
Helen first drew a man. Later, in drawing birds she pu^. 
into her drawing many of the marks which stood for a man. 
In this early work, the children do not appear to 
copy from the object, even when it is before them. A 
Draw what child told to copy a man lying down, draws 
they know )^[^ ^g she draws other men, standing up. 
She may notice later the discrepancy, but at the time it 
does not trouble her at all. She draws the object as she 
knows it, not as she sees it, because the picture is a true 
language to her. Thus she shows people through the 
sides of the houses, and all the sides of the house, and 
the legs of the chair, regardless of the actual appearance. 




TlIIRll GlIATiF PlI'TI'lJE 



Per cents Character 



Per cents Character 



Scenes 8; Series 8 Bears 46 

Fragments z Houses 86 Girl 72 

Interiors 3 Trees 85 Bears and Girl. z8 




Character Per cents 

Scenes 84 

Fragments 007 

Interiors 12 



Fourth Grade Picture 

Character Per cents 

Series 3 

Houses 86 

Trees 83 



Character Per cents 

Bears 34 

Girl 77 

Bears and Girl 23 



Drawing 477 

A child has Httle or no technique, and so simplifies 
many things until the drawing seems to be little more than 
a symbol of the object ; but that it is not symbolic to him is 
shown by his putting in striking details to identify partic- 
ular persons or things. He has no sense of proportion or 
perspective. Men are taller than houses, birds and dogs 
are of the same size, and all appear in one plane. 

Barnes thinks that this lack of unity in the picture is 
due to the fact that the child thinks in very small units, 
and fails to look at the picture as a whole. He draws 
the outside of the house, then, going on with his story, 
he shows the people doing various things inside the 
house, forgetting about the outside. It comes out 
again in the fact that often a child will repeat some 
detail in the story again and again without seeming 
to notice the rest. One child drew twenty-six Johnnies 
in "Johnnie Guck in Die Luft," and nothing else. 

Rouma, however, criticizes this position. He says that 
most children accompany their drawing by a verbal de- 
scription either to themselves or the onlooker, and that 
what seem to be gaps in the drawing are filled by the 
words of the child. A drawing should never be considered 
apart from the conditions under which it was drawn. 

Almost without exception, the first pictures are out- 
lines or diagrams, not mass drawings. Whether they 

are symbolic and conventional, or diagram- ^ ^,. 

. . . - ,. \-, 11 , • , Outlines 

matic, is a pomt ot dispute, bully thinks 

that they very soon become conventional, that the 
child adopts a certain outline for man, another for trees, 
and sticks to it regardless of the various kinds of men 
and trees that he knows. Lukens, on the other hand, 
regards this, when it occurs, as a case of arrested develop- 
ment and to be deprecated. If the child is allowed to 
develop freely, he thinks that there will be a progress in 
31 



478 The Child 

the production of natural effects. I am inclined to agree 
with Dr. Lukens on this, and I feel sure that what Professor 
Sully says is true, that many children are really led into 
this conventionalism by our very methods of teaching. One 
mass appearance represents apple trees, another pines; and 
we teachers frequently do not know enough to appreciate 
an individual apple tree when the budding Corot gives us 
one, but condemn him to draw apple trees in general. 

We have already seen that the object most often chosen 
by the children is the human figure. Schuyten, Lukens, 
Drawing Levinstein, Barnes and others give the follow- 
of a man j^g order of development. In drawing this, 
children begin with the full view of the head. At first only 
eyes and mouth are put into it, and the body is a mere 
jumble of lines. Later, arms and legs are added to the 
head, and after a time a body appears, but even then the 
arms may come out of the head for some time. Barnes 
found that full faces predominated until the age of nine, 
and then profiles. In the transition stage, the profile may 
be drawn with two eyes and ears. As we should expect, with 
right-handed children the profiles and animals face to the 
left and the child draws the animal from the head back. 

In the drawing of horses, the observations of Miss 
Caroline Flanders^ show these percentages: For first- 
grade children, six to seven years 
©old, 30 per cent turn to the right, 
"TT n 65 per cent to the left, and 12^ 

per cent to the front; 58 per cent 

Diagram ii. In Drawing a 01 1 j. r 11 r 

Horse twentv-p.ve Per ^re profile; 12^ per cent fuUface; 
Cent of the Children 25 per ccnt are ambiguous crca- 

BETVVEEN SiX AND SeVEN , /o T-\' N 

Produce Ambiguous Crea- ^UrCS. (See Diagram 1 1 .) 73 per 

tures Like This. cent havc cycs; 5if per cent, 

^Unpublished data on 1,000 Chicago school children from kin- 
dergarten through eighth grade. 




Character Per cents Charaa 

Scenes 84 Series.. . 

Fragments o Houses, 

Interiors 15 Trees. 



nts Character Per cents 

o Bears z8 

8? Girl 64 

77 Bears and Girl 9 




Sixth Gr.^de Picture 



Character 
Scenes .... 
Fragments 
interiors . . 



Per cents Character Per cents Character Per cent' 

61 Series o Bears 36 

.. 20 Houses 5S Girl 58 

17 Trees 59 Bears and Girl 21 



Plate IV 



Drawing 479 

nose; 60 per cent, mouth; 58 per cent, ears; 85 per cent, 
tail; i6f per cent, mane; 3 if per cent, hair; 96 per cent, 
legs, varying in number from one to four. 

Goldilocks was drawn by the kindergarten children, 
22 per cent of the drawings facing left; 13 per cent, front; 
36 per cent, right; 7 per cent, back. In the second grade 
fewer faced front, and more sideways; and in the seventh 
and eighth grades most faced to the left. Joints were 
first drawn by fourth-grade children. 

In the illustrating of stories. Earl Barnes found that 
freedom in drawing, as shown by the number of scenes, 
increases up to the age of thirteen, and Drawing 
then decreases to sixteen. All the children of stories 
who declined to draw were over thirteen. Here again we 
find the self-consciousness of adolescence, the feeling of 
inability in the presence of new ideals. 

In all cases, the children prefer large, distinct figures, 
especially for the hero. In the story of Johnnie, the little 
boy is often made much larger than the men who rescue 
him. We have a nice analogy here in the Greek custom of 
representing heroes and gods as larger than ordinary men. 

We find a similar case in the exaggerations given to 
details which are prominent in the child's mind. A 
pair of glasses will dominate the entire picture; a watch 
chain will spread over the whole front; vest buttons of 
heroic proportions will appear, or some characteristic 
attitude will be represented in its extreme. The child 
is an unconscious caricaturist. One curious fact here is 
that the catastrophe is not drawn nearly as often as the 
scenes just preceding and following it. Earl Barnes lays 
this to a sense in the children, like that in adults, which 
leads them to enjoy most the suspense, and afterwards the 
pleasure of rescuing the lucky hero. It seems that one may 
fairly question this explanation, though it is difficult to 



480 The Child 

offer a satisfactory one in its place. We can hardly think 
the children would consider the catastrophe too difficiilt. 
Perhaps it may seem too complicated to attract them. 

The observations made by Miss Flanders upon one 
thousand children from four to fifteen years old, who 
Experiment drew the story of Goldilocks and the Three 
with story of Bears, confirm Professor Barnes's, and add 
Goldiloc s some further interesting details. Many of 
the drawings were with colored chalks, which the children 
preferred when given a choice, and with which they drew 
better than with black and white. In the kindergarten, 
most of the children use lines instead of mass; a few mass, 
and a few both. In the first grade, where instruction 
in drawing begins, the figures are almost equally divided 
between the two; and beyond the first grade, mass is 
used nearly always, showing the effect of instruction. 
This again leads to the conclusion that children naturally 
draw in line, even when given a medium like crayon, 
that lends itself to mass ; but that they can soon be taught 
to see and draw in mass. 

The effect of the teacher upon the children also comes 
out very distinctly in these papers. Where the teachers 
like drawing the children are freer in expression, improve 
more rapidly, and enjoy the work better. 

The gradual changes in the pictures from kindergarten 
through eighth-grade drawings are shown in the series 
Development running through this chapter. The figures 
and scenes ^{^h each picture show the percentage of 
children in the grade who drew essentially the same pic- 
ture, and also the variations from it. The remarkable 
thing about these pictures is their uniformity of scene. 
Why do the children choose a scene which is really so 
little connected with the story? Why do they take a 
landscape instead of an interior? 




Seventh Grade Picture 



Character Per cents 

Scenes 45 

Fragments 9 

Interiors 9 



Character Per cents 

Series 36 

Houses 70 

Trees 70 



Character Per cents 

Bears 6l 

Girl. 7J 

Bears and Girl 46 




Character Per cents 

Scenes 54 

Fragments 18 

Interiors 20 



Eighth Grade Picture 

Character Per cents 

Series 9 

Houses 68 

Tree. ,. 64 



Character Per cents 

Bears vj 

Girl 56 

Bears and G<'l 14 



Plate V 



Drawing 481 

In the second grade, sky and ground are shown as 
meeting; before that, with a space between. There 
were very few series of drawings, probably because the 
children have not been shown how to draw in that way. 
In the higher grades more detail appears in the drawings. 
Throughout, the details are copied from what the children 
see about them — a peculiar style of window; high stair 
in front of the house; family portraits on the walls. The 
totals of Miss Flanders's work are seen in the following 
summary : 

All the pictures have houses: 10 per cent in mass; 
80 per cent in line; 9 per cent in both; 14 per cent trans- 
parent; 5 per cent with doors; 12 per cent with knobs; 2 
per cent with door panels; 69 per cent with windows; 
6 per cent with curtains; 65 per cent with chimneys; 
41 per cent with smoke. 

Sixty-eight per cent have trees; 9 per cent in line, 
73 per cent in mass, and 16 per cent in both; 34 per cent 
have forests, and i per cent, flowers. 

Sky and ground are shown by 65 per cent, ground alone 
by 15 per cent, and sky alone by less than i per cent. 

Bears are shown by 47 per cent; with bear shapes 27 
per cent, human shape 20 per cent, animal shape 21 per 
cent. Their faces are: profile 55 per cent, full 23 per 
cent, double 21 per cent. Of features, 20 per cent have 
eyes, 45 per cent tails, 9 per cent arms. 

Goldilocks is drawn by 66 per cent. She is allowed 
head, neck, body, skirt, and feet by 3y per cent; head, 
body, and feet by sf per cent; head, skirt, and feet by 
loy per cent; head, body, skirt, and feet by 68f per 
cent; head and skirt by only 2y per cent; full face in 
22y per cent; doubtful outlines in 4 if per cent. 

As to features, she is allowed eyes by 23^ per cent; 
nose by 2 1 4" per cent; mouth by 19^ per cent; ears by 



482 The Child 

I per cent, and hair by 4 7 4- per cent; feet by 76 per 
cent; shoes by 33 per cent; arms by 50 per cent; hands 
by gf per cent; fingers by 5f per cent. 

Certain conclusions are easily reached on the basis 
of these facts. It is evident that drawing should begin 
Figures vs ^'^^^ ^^^ human figure as a whole and not 
conventional with conventional designs, and shoiild only 
designs ^^ degrees work up to the analysis involved 

in the latter. The method of using drawing to illustrate 
stories, scenes from child life, is to be commended instead 
of a conventional course in drawing. 

Ruskiri laments the devotion of the school to geo- 
metrical forms. He says: "A great draftsman can, 
so far as I have observed, draw every line but a straight 
one. When the child longs to turn out men, dogs, cars, 
horses, heroes, he is showing his freedom; but he is 
bidden to draw a straight line, a curve, or the like. 
When nature intended him to be as yet a player, an 
artist only, the school seeks to make him a geometrician; 
when he desires to make many lines, he is confined to 
one; when he endeavors to produce a whole, it seeks to 
make him produce parts only. Neither the child nor 
primitive man begins with a geometric line — it is in a 
scribble that the history of graphic art lies hid." 

These facts would also lead us to conclude that chil- 
dren draw naturally in outline instead of in mass, and 
that shadow, etc., should be introduced by degrees as 
the child learns to separate knowledge from sight. It 
can hardly be said that all these children would use 
outline naturally if there were not some reason for it. 
Technique should be introduced slowly. Probably by 
the age of nine most children will appreciate some help 
in this direction. 

Too often children are simply taught certain technical 



Drawing 483 

tricks, but are not taught to observe, with the result 
that high-school boys and girls draw no better than 
those in the third grade. Back of all drill in tech- 
nique must be the observant and interested mind striving 
to express an idea. So above all things we must take 
care not to destroy a child's spontaneous love for draw- 
ing by making him self-conscious and distrustful. The 
ideal thing would be for us all to draw as easily as we 
write, when it will serve our turn, and there is no reason 
why we should not if given the proper training. 

REFERENCES 

Allen, Daphne. A Child's Visions. Allen, Lond., 1912, 78 pp. 

(Spontaneous drawings.) 
Amberg, J. D. R. Drawing in General Education. Ed., Vol. XIV, 

268. 
Bailey, H. T. A First Year in Drawing. Report on Drawing 

(Industrial) in 55//j Ann. Repl. of Mass. Board of Educa- 
tion (1893 and 1894). 
Baldwin, J. Mark. Mental Development, Methods and Processes, 

50-57, 81-96. Macmillan, N. Y. $3.00. 
Balfour, H. Evolution of Decorative Art. Rivington, Percival and 

Co., 1893, 131 pp. 
Ballard, B. P. What London Children Like to Draw. Jour. Exp. 

Fed., Vol. I, 1912, 185-197. 
Barnes, E. Studies in Education. See Index. U. of Chicago Press, 

Chicago. 
Study of Children's Drawings. Fed. Sent., 1893, 455-463; 

Fed. Sent., Oct. 1895. 
Barrett, H. V. Drawing in Elementary Schools. Mag. of Art, 

Vol. VIII, 326-425. 
Brown, E. E. Art in Education. Froc. N. E. A., 1899, 112-121. 

(Pictures, tragic and comic, for the schools. General.) 
Notes on Children's Drawings. U. of California Studies, 

Vol. II, 1897, 75 pp. Bibliog. 
Burk, F. L. Genetic versus Logical Order in Drawing. Fed. 

Sent., 1902, 296-323. 
Burnham, W. D. Hygiene of Drawing. Fed'. Sent., 1907, 289-304. 



484 The Child 

Clark, A. B. Child's Attitude toward Perspective Problem. 

Barnes's Studies in Ed., 283-294. U. of Chicago Press, 

Chicago. 
Clark, J. S. Children's Drawing. Ed. Rev., 1897, Vol. XIII, 

76-82. 
Cooke, E. Art Teaching and Child Nature. Jour, of Ed., Dec. 

1885 and Jan. 1886. 
Coole, E. The A B C of Drawing. Special Rept. of Ed. Dept. 

of Gr. Brit. London, 1897. 
Dewey, John. Imagination and Expression — the Psychology of 

Drawing. Kgn. Lib. Co., Chicago. $0.15. 
Elementary School Record. Number on Art. U. of Chicago 

Press, Chicago. $0.17. 
Fitts, Alice E. ^Esthetic Problem in Kindergarten Room. Kgn. 

Rev., 1909, 600-608. 
Fitz, H. G. Freehand Drawing in Education. Pop. Sc. Mo., 

Oct. 1897, 755-765. 
Gallagher, Margaret. Children's Spontaneous Drawings. N. W. 

Mo., 1897, 130-134. 
Haney, J. P. (ed.). Art Education in the United States. Am. Art 

Annual, N. Y., 1908, 432 pp. 
Herrick, Mary A. Children's Drawings. Ped. Sem., 1894-6, 

338-339- 
Hicks, Mary Dana. Color in Public Schools. Proc. N. E. A., 

1894, 906-915. 
Art in Early Education. Ped. Sem., 1892, 463-466. 
Hogan, Louise. Study of a Child. Harper's Mo., June 1898. 
Kerschensteiner, G. Die Entwickelung der zeichnerischen Begabung. 

Gerber, Munich, 1905, 508 pp. 
Lay, W. A. Die Plastische Kunst des Kindes. Exp. Pad., Bd. 3, 

1906, 31-54- 
Levinstein, Sieg. Kinderzeichnungen bis zum 14 Lebensjahre. 

Voigtlander, 1905, 119 pp. (Many drawings and bibliog- 
raphy.) 
Locker, J. C. With What Should Drawing Begin? Proc. Int. 

Cong. Ed., N. Y., 1894, 491. 
Lukens, H. T. Drawing. Proc. N. E. A., 1899, 945-951. 

Children's Drawings in Early Years. Ped. Sem., 1896-7, 

79-110. (Gives pictures. Good.) 
McDougall, Wm. Investigation of Color Sense of Two Infants. 

Brit. Jour. Psy., 1908, 338-352. 



Drawing 485 

Maitland, M. L. What Children Draw to Please Themselves. 

Inland Ed., Vol. I, 1895. 
Eskimo Drawings. N. W. Mo., June 1899, 443-450. 
Marsden, R. E. Early Color Sense. Psy. Rev., 1903, Vol. X, 

297-300. 
Mason, W. A. Psychology of the Object. Ed., 1894, Vol. XV. 
Monroe, W. S. Color Sense of Young Children. Paid., 1907, 7-10. 
Munsell, E. H. Measured Training of the Color Sense. Ed., 

1909, 360-380. 
Myers, C. S. Development of the Color Sense. Brit. Jour. Psy., 

1908, 353-362. 
Nagel, W. A. Color Sense of a Child. Jour. Comp. Neur. and Psy., 

1906, 16, 219-230. 

O'Shea, M. V. Children's Expression through Drawing. Proc. 
N. E. A., 1897, 1015-1023. 
Some Aspects of Drawing. Ed. Rev., Oct. 1897, Vol. XIV, 
263-284. (General.) 

Parker, P. W. Talks on Pedagogics. Chapter X. Flanagan, 
Chicago. $1.50. 

Partridge, Lena. Children's Drawings of Men and Women. 
Barnes's Studies in Ed., May 1902, Vol. II, 163-179. 

Partridge, Sophia S. Children's Drawings. Paid., Nov. 1904, 
Vol. IV, No. 3, 130-168. (This gives a comprehensive 
bibliography on the subject.) 

Pedagogical Seminary, 1891, 445-447. Notes on Children's Draw- 
ings. 

Perez, B. L'art et la poesie chez V enfant. Alcan, Paris, 1888, 
309 pp. 

Plessy, . Typical Children's Drawings and Some Conclu- 
sions. App. Art Book, Oct. 1901, Vol. I, 12-19. 

Ricci, C. Summary of his work in Pedagogical Seminary, 1894-6, 
302-307, 

Rooper, T. G. Drawing in Infant Schools. In Selected Writifigs, 

1907, 58-76. 

Rouma, Georges. Le langage graphique de V enfant. Mischet Thron, 
Brux., 1912, 288 pp. et bib. (Many drawings and sum- 
maries of previous work.) 

Runcinan, J. Drawing in London Board Schools. Mag. of Art, 
Vol. VIII, 21-28. 

Sargent, Walter. Experimental Pedagogy of Drawing. Jour. Ed. 
Psy., Vol. Ill, 1912, 264-276. 



486 The Child 

Sully, James. Studies of Childhood. Chapter on The Child as 

Artist and The Young Draughtsman. 
Taylor, E. J. Color Sense Training and Color Using. Blackie, 

London, 1908, 88 pp. 
Tucker, A. Winifred. Color Vision of School Children. Brit. Jour. 

Psy., 191 1, 33-43. 
Watt, H. J. Esthetic Appreciation in Children, Child Study, 

1910, 1-13. 
Wilson, Mrs. L. L. W. Picture Study in Elementary Schools. 

Macmillan, 1909. 
Winch, W. H. Color Preferences of School Children, Brit. Jour. 

Psy., 1909, 42-65. 
Color Names of English School Children. Am. Jour. Psy., 

1910, 453-482. 
Wooley, Helen T. Color Perceptions of an Infant. P^v. Rev., 

1909, 363-376. 
Woolner, T. Value of Drawing. Mag. of Art, Vol. XV. 



CHAPTER XX 
Play 

1. Get data from children of all grades in fall, winter, 
spring, and stimmer as to the play that they like the 
best of all. Observa- 

2. Get data about clubs and societies that ^^°^^ 
are formed and managed without adult encouragement 
and aid. 

3 . Keep records as to the plays of little children. 

4. Collect accounts of plays and games used in fonnal 
education, stating the purpose for which they are used 
and how far they accomplish the purpose. 

In taking up the subject of play we shall find many 
connections with the topics previously discussed. Play 
seems to be to a large extent the form in which Education 
childish ideas express themselves. It is to "^ P^^y 
the child what his life work is to the man, and shows 
therefore most clearly what his nature is when left to 
himself. On this account observation of the free play of 
children is of great assistance to a teacher in learning 
their true characteristics. 

Even from the earliest times there have been edu- 
cators who differed from the Hinterschlag professor. 
This worthy man knew of the sotd only "that it had a 
facility called memory and could be acted upon through 
the muscular integument by the application of birch 
rods." On the other hand, 2300 years ago Plato said: 
"The plays of children have the mightiest influence on the 
maintenance of laws — from the first years of childhood, 

487 



488 The Child 

their plays ought to be subject to laws, for if they 
are arbitrary and lawless, how can children ever become 
virtuous men, abiding by law?" Aristotle advised that 
the children before five years of age "should be taught 
nothing, lest it hinder growth, but should be accustomed 
to use much motion — and this can be acquired by vari- 
ous means, among others by play, which ought to be 
neither too illiberal nor too laborious nor lazy." Luther 
tells us that "Solomon did not prohibit scholars from 
play at the proper time. A young man shut up (with- 
out recreation) is like a young tree which ought to bear 
fruit but is planted in a pot." 

Locke asserts that "the gamesome humor of child- 
hood which is wisely adapted by nature to its age and 
temper, should be encouraged, to keep up their spirits 
and improve their health and strength. The chief art 
is to make all that children have to do, sport and play." 
He invented games for teaching reading, and suggested 
others. Richter in his Levana says that "activity alone 
can bring and hold serenity and happiness. Unlike our 
games, the plays of children are the expressions of serious 
activity, although in light, airy dress. Play is the first 
poetical (creative) utterance of man." Schiller says, 
"Man is man only when he plays." 

Finally Froebel, in the Education of Man, says: 
"Play is the highest phase of the child development — 
Froebel on for it is self -attentive representation of the 
P^*y inner life from inner necessity and impulse. 

Play is the purest, most spiritual activity of man, at this 
stage, and at the same time typical of human life as a 
whole, — of the inner, hidden, natural life in man and all 
things. It gives joy, freedom, contentment, inner and 
outer rest, peace with the world. It holds the sources 
of all that is good. A child that plays thoroughly, with 



Play 489 

self-active determination, will surely be a thorough, de- 
termined man, capable of self-sacrifice for the promotion 
of the welfare of himself and others. The sponta- 
neous play of the child discloses the future inner life 
of the man. If the child is injured at this period, if the 
germinal leaves of the future tree of his life are marred 
at this time, he will only with the greatest difficulty and 
the utmost effort grow into strong manhood." 

More recent study and observation have served only 
to emphasize these utterances and to show in detail 
their truth. Spencer tells us that all education, so far 
as it is true, tends to revert to play, and Preyer compares 
the child's play, in its value to him, to the work of the 
learned man. 

The distinction between play and work is a difficult 
one to draw. It is evidently not merely in the acts, 
nor in their result; to Tom Sawyer, white- piay and 
washing the fence was the hardest sort of ^o""^ 
drudgery, but he made it into play for his boy friends 
and made them pay him for the privilege of playing at 
it. Again, if a boy has to play marbles when he wants 
to go to a fire, the play becomes work. We often say 
that if we had to do as work what we play at — camping 
out, making century runs, etc. — we should consider our- 
selves much abused. It is not alone the amount of 
effort, therefore, or the fact of having a definite end, 
that makes an activity work instead of play. It seems 
to be rather that the activity is pleasurable and sponta- 
neous; that there is no external or internal compulsion 
laid upon the player. Play in this sense includes all 
truly artistic work. It is not the opposite of work but 
the best way of doing work. It is working in the spirit 
of love, instead of in the spirit of duty. And yet we dis- 
tinguish such work from play in that it does, after all. 



49© The Child 

go beyond itself in the artist's appreciation of the ethical 
and social value of his art. 

Shut out play from work, and we get weariness and 
stupidity; we exclude growth, physical, intellectual, and 
moral. The child who does not like play is abnormal. 
He is sick or stupid. He ought not to prefer to sit in 
his seat when the others are romping. Such a child is 
very likely to exhibit some of the signs of nervousness 
described in the first chapter, or signs of poor nutrition — 
either not enough food or else not the right kind. A dis- 
tinction should also be made between games and play. 
All games are play, but not all plays are games. Games 
are organized, systematized play, and involve more than 
one child. 

Groos, in his theory of play, considers the physi- 
Theory of ©logical, biological, and psychological fac- 
P^^y tors, in order to get a complete theory. 

There are two principles to which we must refer for 
a physiological theory of play, — the discharge of surplus 
I The phvs- ^^^^SY ^^^ ^he recreation of exhausted 
iological powers. The first is likely to occur when, 

s an point through rest or disuse, any set of organs 
has stored up more force than it needs, which force, 
therefore, tends to find an outlet in any convenient 
direction. The second happens when we are tired of 
mental or physical labor, but still do not need rest, and 
so turn to the change and recreation given by play. In 
both cases, a play so begun may be carried to the point 
of exhaustion, because any movement set up in the body 
tends to repeat itself and to produce a trance-like con- 
dition which is irresistible. 

The first overflow of energy is illustrated in the activity'' 
of a little child in the morning, when he jumps and 
skips from good spirits; the recreation, in his later 



Play 49 1 

conduct, when he turns from one play to another. In 
both cases, he may continue until he is tired out. 

Such a theory is satisfactory for certain forms of 
play, but it leaves untouched the question of why the 
surplus energy and recreation take the particular forms 
that they do, and must therefore be supplemented from 
the biological standpoint. 

We do not find the play instinct in animals that have 
to support themselves from birth. It develops in pro- 
portion as the animal is freed from the »,. 
serious duties of life. The highly developed biological 
animals are the most unfit to provide for standpoint 
themselves at birth, are the most plastic or educable, 
and require the longest period of infancy or caretaking. 
These animals are also the most playful. We do not 
think of an oyster, and hardly of a chick, as playing. 
But colts, puppies, kittens, are all playful, while the 
child is the player par excellence, and play is a large 
part of his training for life. 

Patrick has discussed this point in his article on the 
Psychology of Relaxation, in which he says that relaxa- 
tion, recreation, play, etc., are found in those forms of 
activity which put us on a somewhat lower phylogenetic 
level than we usually Hve on. Very many forms of chil- 
dren's play are reproductions of ancient activities, such 
as all games of hunting, flight and capture, throwing, 
hitting, etc. The child's musical instruments, the rattle, 
horn and drum, are also those of primitive man; the jack- 
knife once meant safety and food to its owner ; the hobby 
horse is the modern representative to the child of early 
man's dependence upon the horse; fishing is a reverbera- 
tion of racial activities, etc. 

This is the same genetic point of view which Hall has 
been presenting for years, according to which the child 



492 The Child 

repeats in his own development the fundamental psychi- 
cal and physical activities of the race. It differs from 
the earlier presentation of the recapitulatory and culture 
epoch theories in not insisting upon the same order of 
reproduction, and in recognizing that in the psyche, as 
in the soma, the early stages in the development of the 
human being of to-day, while showing beyond question 
traces of pre-human as well as primitive human history, 
are also profoundly modified by the more recent history 
of mankind. Just as the Anlage of the brain in the human 
embryo appears very early and is strikingly greater than 
in any animal, though at the same time there are gill-slits 
showing our fish ancestry, so it is in the psyche. The 
baby learning to throw a ball is recapitulating an early 
stage of human history, but his psychical processes in 
doing so are shot through also with the later stages and 
with the social reactions of those about him. A game 
like Prisoner's Base or a vacation camping-out is like a 
hand-woven rug of a most intricate and many-colored 
pattern, which has been passed down in the making from 
generation to generation, so that the threads are not only 
of different colors but of different strength, and the weav- 
ing of differing skill in different parts. 

The superfluous energy and the desire for recreation 
find the easiest outlets through the channels of instincts, 
and thus not only recapitulate race experience but serve 
the useful function of being an important forai of organic 
exercise. It seems to be true that the spontaneous 
actions of play are the same as those which the child 
will need later to use seriously. We find plays varying 
in different species of animals, according to their instincts. 
Thus, a puppy plays vigorously at biting and fighting, 
in his way, and so is trained for actual fighting later. A 
kitten plays very differently from a puppy, but its play 



Play 493 

serves equally well to prepare it for its life. Children, in 
like manner, play according to the way their ancestors 
have acted. The channels worn by ages of use are the 
easiest ones through which superfluous energy can escape, 
and so both the spontaneous and the imitative tendencies 
tend to the reproduction of racial activities, hunting of 
animals, sham fights, and so on. The believers in the 
culture-epoch theory put here also the plays of tent 
life, cave life, pastoral life, which most children go through 
at some time. Some of the games based on the hunting 
instinct are games of chase, like tag; games of searching, 
like hide-and-seek; games of hurling, like quoits. Based 
on the fighting instinct are games of contest, like foot- 
ball; and all that bring out emulation, like racing. 

The element of imitation doubtless enters into all 
these plays, but unless they appealed to some natural 
tendencies they would not be imitated. In the various 
kindergarten plays we find an attempt to make this 
tendency regularly serviceable in education. 

Now all these plays which thus reproduce race activi- 
ties are of value also because they provide a large amount 
of exercise for the child, and so aid greatly in bodily 
control. As they reproduce adult activities, however 
crudely, they train the muscles for those activities. 
The girl in her playhouse is learning how to handle the 
household utensils carefully. The boy in his baseball 
and running games gains a fleetness and readiness that 
are serviceable in all but the most sedentary occupations. 
There is no part of the body left undeveloped by the 
plays of children. Ordinarily also, this exercise can be 
secured in no other way. Gymnastics are not com- 
parable with free play, for they exercise only certain sets 
of muscles and the same sets for all children, whereas 
free play allows each child to exercise the least used 



494 The Child 

muscles, and also relieves the strain of attention. 
Further, because children do not especially enjoy gym- 
nastics, they do them only under direction, and do not 
get as much exercise as from free play. Gymnastics 
are, of course, valuable when children do not get plays 
that exercise all the muscles, or when they are deformed 
or developed unsymmetrically ; but, says one writer, the 
finest type of physical man is not produced by the gym- 
nasia or the palaestra, but by games — rowing and rtmning, 
football and baseball, golf and tennis. The movement for 
playgrounds in the city thus assumes as great an impor- 
tance as the securing of gymnasia, especiall}'' because 
the children do not get any of the natural opportunities 
for exercise either in work or in play that the country 
and village children get. 

When we approach the question of the mental state 
of the playing child, one of the most prominent factors 
3. The psy- ^^ ^^^ acceptance of an illusion, his playing 
chological of a part. The girl who makes a doll out 
standpoint ^^ ^ ^^^^ p-^^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ pj^^^ 

soldier, know that they are "making believe," and yet 
accept the pretense with delight. Lange calls it a con- 
scious self-deception, in which a period of illusion follows 
a moment of readjustment. The combination of the two 
is seen in laughing boys in a sham fight. 

Groos believes that the delight in the illusion is due 
to the feeling of freedom in accepting the illusion and 
joy in being the cause of it. The child is guarded from 
error by the subconsciousness that he himself created 
the thing, and so plays joyously with it as if it were a 
reality. Such plays pass by slow transitions into artistic 
creation and invention, in which the sense of unreality 
is replaced by belief in their truth and their social value. 

Much of what is called play in babies and little children 



Play 495 

is rather an experimenting with the senses and motor 
apparatus for the sake of the new feehngs thus pro- 
duced. Such plays are based directly upon the pjj.g^ j 
instinctive demand of these organs for activ- an experi- 
ity, and are lacking in the factor of illusion renting 
which we have just mentioned. They serve the biological 
purpose already mentioned. Numerous illustrations of 
this might be given from every sense. 

1. Touch. Very early in life a baby enjoys stroking, 
and seeks to put everything into his mouth. The latter 
is done not only when the child is hungry but when he 
has just been fed, and is enjoyed for the contact with 
the lips and tongue. In the bath, he gets various sensa- 
tions by splashing. The baby explores his body, handles 
all he can reach, and in every way plays with the touch 
sensations. 

2. Temperature. The seeking of a stinging air, a 
cool breeze, a hot sun, not so much to relieve any dis- 
comfort as to enjoy them, are instances of play here. 

3. Taste. The love of having something in the mouth 
— candy, gum, a clove, an olive stone, tobacco — testifies 
to the playful use we all make of touch. Even a stone 
or a tasteless bit of beeswax satisfies some people when 
they can get nothing better. In such cases the intention 
is not, of course, to satisfy hunger, but simply to get new 
sensations. 

4. Smell. We do not find play so much in evidence 
here, although sometimes children do play games that 
call into use the sense of smell. 

5. FI earing. We spoke at some length of hearing, 
under the head of music. Here we have only to note 
that these first sounds that are heard and produced 
with so much pleasure are to the child a form of play. 
He listens and reproduces, makes up rimes, and repeats 



496 The Child 

his chain rimes, Mother Goose, and so on, in a spon- 
taneous enjoyment that asks for nothing more. He is 
not limited to his own voice, but rattles and shakes and 
tears anything that he can get hold of, to satisfy his 
insatiable ear. 

6. Sight. The same is true of sight. Whether it 
is merely the enjoyment of brightness and color, or the 
more complex delight in forms and in objects, a child 
is constantly seeking to produce a new experience or to 
repeat a pleasurable old one. 

7. Playful movements of the bodily organs. All this 
play with the senses involves movement, but we find 
the child also experimenting in all sorts of ways with 
his hands and legs and head, putting them into all sorts 
of positions and enjoying himself immensely. In course 
of time he learns to run and walk, and then we can see 
plainly his play in jumping, stamping, rowing, taking 
difficult steps, climbing, and giving himself a thousand 
tests of skill. He does not limit himself to his own 
body, either, but takes possession of anything upon 
which he can exercise his muscles. He tears paper, 
shakes keys and all noisy objects, splashes water, and 
so on. 

Considerable observation has been made of children's 
free play with a view to seeing just what they do when 
Favorite left alone. Many nationalities and classes 

P^^ys have been observed with the interesting 

result that children of the same age, whatever their 
nationaUty or social class, play essentially the same 
games and plays. The names may differ, but certain 
characteristics are common to all. As we should expect, 
the plays of little children of the kindergarten age are 
much more imitative than those of older children. 
Playing family and store are by far the most popular 



Play 497 

both with girls and boys, and in these plays the home 
life is reproduced, often with startling fidelity. Playing 
church comes next to these, but it is played only about 
one third as much as the others. 

In observations made on twenty-nine kindergarten 
children, five to six years old, it was found that in their 
plays they divided spontaneously into four groups. 
The first group consisted of the older boys. Their 
plays contained much action and imagination. In 
three months thirty-one dramatic plays were observed, 
such as policeman, fireman, store. 

The second group was made up of the older girls. 
Their plays were also dramatic, but quieter than the 
boys'. Playing house and school were the great favorites. 

The third consisted of the smaller children and older 
bashful girls. They played simple games, but spent most 
of their time in rushing from one to the other of the other 
groups as they were attracted by the games going on. 

The fourth group consisted of the left-overs, listless 
children, who did not seem to care for any game, and 
spent most of their time in the swing. 

All these plays are imitative rather than inventive. 
It is interesting to notice that usually the same play is 
played on consecutive days, the interest shifting only 
by degrees. Thus, if house is played on one day, it is 
likely to be played for a while the next day. That 
day another game may be introduced also, and this 
will be likely to survive the next day, and so on. Some 
plays are played almost every day, but what shifting 
there is, is of this gradual nature. 

The particular play chosen seemed to be selected 
either because the children liked it very much, or be- 
cause some child of strong personality forced his liking 
upon the others even if they did not care for the play. 



498 T Ji c Child 

The latter was not at all an uncommon occurrence. 

Children below seven years of age rarely play games 
unless stimulated by older children or by adults. Their 
Character of P^^y^ ^^^ individualistic and non-competi- 
plays of little tive. The question has been raised seriously, 
children therefore, whether the kindergarten should 

force cooperation upon its children ; whether it is not urg- 
ing them into a stage for which they are not yet ready. 
Froebel himself, it is urged, says that boyhood, rather 
than childhood, is the time when the unity with others 
comes to consciousness, and that childhood is the time 
for learning to perceive things as distinct. The feeling of 
unity is vague, and the tendency is toward defining per- 
cepts and ideas, making them distinct rather than related. 

The kindergarten period, up to the beginning of the 
second dentition, is especially the toy period. The plays 
Play with usually center about some object upon which 
toys numerous imaginings can be based, the doll, 

the engine, etc. But it is not at all essential that the toy 
should be elaborate. It is better for a child to be supplied 
with plenty of material, such as blocks and sand, from 
which he can make many things, and with some simple 
toys, than to have expensive mechanisms which he cannot 
shape to his will. He ought to be able to take any toy 
to pieces and put it together again without injury to it. 

Almost anything will serve a child for a toy, when he 
is left to his own inventions — flowers and leaves, twigs, 
berries, grass, bits of glass and china, iron, cloth, etc. — 
anything that will serve as a peg for his fancy. 

It is noticeable, however, that when children make toys, 
they usually only copy — making sleds, hammers, axes, etc. 

The universal toy is, of course, the doll, upon which 
both the invention and imitation of the child expend 
themselves to -the utmost. We find from Dr. Hall's 



Play 499 

article that children prefer dolls of certain materials, 
thus: wax, 22 per cent; paper, 19 per cent; china, 18 
per cent; rag, 17 per cent; bisque, 12 per 
cent; china and cloth, 9^ per cent; rubber, 8 
per cent. But lacking these, they substitute: pillows, 
4^ per cent; sticks, 3 per cent; bottles, 2^2 per cent; 
dogs, 2 per cent; cats or kittens, i^^ per cent; shawls, 2^ 
per cent; flowers, i per cent; clothespins, i per cent, to 
say nothing of such things as toy washboards or wringers 
in isolated cases. 

Any size from 4 to 1 2 inches suits, but blonds with curly 
hair and eyes that open and shut are preferred. Babies are 
liked best before five years, and children after that time. 

The mental qualities that are attributed to these first 
children are as varied as the human nature that the 
child knows. It is an interesting question how far a 
child really believes that the doll can feel, be good, be 
jealous, and so on, and how far she is conscious of its 
lifelessness. In feeding a doll, for instance, i}4 per 
cent maintain that the doll really is hungry and the 
same number are in doubt; 2 per cent declare that the 
doll never is hungry, while the great majority either 
feed the doll or touch the food to her mouth and then 
eat it themselves. In such cases there is a conscious- 
ness of the play, although a child may be really dis- 
tressed over the doll's cold or sickness. 

Among the qualities ascribed to dolls the most com- 
mon are: goodness, 27 per cent; cold, 24 per cent; 
inability to love, 22 per cent; weariness, 21 per cent; 
hunger, 21 per cent; badness, 16 percent; jealousy, 8>^ 
percent; hatred, 7 per cent; ability to sleep, 37 percent. 

The love of dolls appears to reach its height in the 
ninth year, although strong from the third year to the 
twelfth. Many girls play with dolls until they go into 



500 The Child 

long dresses and are ridiculed for their love of it ; and not 
a few women confess to the existence of the passion. Dr. 
Hall questions whether this love is as closely connected 
with the maternal instinct as we commonly suppose, citing 
in proof of his statement the fact that many girls who 
were very fond of dolls do not, as women, care much for 
children, and vice versa. This may be true in isolated 
cases, but still play is so evidently an imitation of the 
mother, prompted by instinct, that we must have more 
than a few contrary instances to invalidate this belief. 

During the second dentition, when the association- 
fibers of the brain are developing rapidly, the plays of 
Plays of children undergo as marked a change as 

older chil- do their other activities. There is first a 
period of dramatic play, which serves to 
connect the toy period with the next, and then the plays 
involve much violent exercise and become highly com- 
petitive in character and much more varied. Hide- 
and-seek is played by only 8 per cent of boys seven 
years old and by 55 per cent of boys ten years old. 

The interest in traditional games — hide-and-seek, tag, 
prisoner's base, fox and hounds — most of which involve 
violent exercise and competition, reaches its height in the 
tenth year. This is also the period when the love of 
anim_als and the desire to possess them are most prom- 
inent. If it is feasible, this desire should be gratified 
and the child taught to take the responsibility of feeding 
them. Such a care is a valuable training in kindness and 
unselfishness, and teaches a child to estimate more cor- 
rectly the kindness of his parents in taking care of him. 

Certain differences between boys and girls appear in the 
ten thousand children observed. As a rule, the girls' 
games are quieter than the boys'. They play a greater 
variety of games, and they do not organize as the boys 



Play 



SOI 



do. Football and baseball are overwhelmingly the favor- 
ites with boys, while with girls no one game has anything 
like that popularity. Again, no girls took part Boys' and 
in the play with the sandpile, except occa- S^^^^' plays 
sionally, and they do not organize societies as boys do. 

The following tables show the relative prominence 
of games and of clubs at different ages. The names at 
the top indicate the authority for the figures given. 
Percentages are given in all cases. The two figures 
indicate the percentages at the two age limits. 



Playing house 

Playing school 

Playing horse 

Playing war 

Play with dolls 

With doll furniture . 

With tea set 

With doll carriage . . 

With leaves 

With flowers 

Books and reading. . 

Music 

Cards 

Checkers 

Dominoes 

Hide-and-seek — J 

Ball 

Baseball 

Running games .... 

Fox-hounds, foot- 
ball, tag, etc 

Games of rivalry. . . 

Games with coop 
eration 

Croquet 

Rhythm and motion 



T. R. Croswell 
1,000 boys, 
1,000 girls, 
kindergarten- 
high school 



Boys Girls Both 



6-5 
7-i'o 

1 6-2 

02 lo 

4-s 

10 

o 

1 

2 
/ 2 5 

3"io 

^-10 

2-S 
16-3 

27-8 

1 8-4 

8 at 

55 at 

12-28 



36§ 
5l 

25-3 
4-h 
§■ 

26-23 

8-1^0 
24-7 
23-8 

ii-i 
lo-iV, 
1 1 -2 
6-1 
15-5 
18-3 
13-2 

7 y- 

10 y. 
5-4 



v ( 



O ( 



Z. McGhee 

4,566 children, 

6-18 years 



Boys Girls Both 



12-3 



3I-I 



2-9 

31-21 

42-65 
25-41 



3-45 



20-70 



W. S. Monroe 

2,000 children, 

7-16 years 



Boys Girls Both 



40 60 



65 
70 


35 


Foot- 
ball 

32 


Tag 
50 


20 

27 


44 

73 



31 



502 



The Child 



Anglo-Saxon Boys' Plays 
( Neuro-Muscular. ) 



Kicking. 
Whole arm, body 
aad hand movements. 
Dropping things. Blocks. 
Sand Plays, digging, piling, etc. 
Running, throwing, cutting and fold- 
ing. Swinging. 

Shooting, guns, bows, slings, etc. 
Knife work. Tools of increasing 
complexity. 



Machinery 
Sailing. 
Rowing. 
Swimming. 



Tag. 
Cross tag. 
Word tag. 
Prisoner's 

base. 

Hide and 

seek. 

Black man. 



Gymnastics. 
Indian Clubs, 
etc. 



Ball 
games. 
One old cat. 
Throwing. 

Duck on F"°go- 
a rock. Rounders, 
Leap frog. ^*^* 

Track and Marble games. "Stunts,- 
Field Sports. ^**' <=»°^9' ^ole. etc. 
Foot-ball games. Care of 

laud and animals. ^^^ Baseball. 
Hunting, fishing. ^r Basket-ball. 

War. Wrestling. ^ Cricket. 
Boxing, fencing. / Hockey. 



Predatory. 
Billiards. 
Bowling. 



Houses in woods. 




Predatory gangs. 



Diagram 12. Luther Guiick's Table Showing the Aspects of Group Games 
IN Boys from Seven to Eighteen Years of Age 



(Used by permission of the Pedagogical Seminary.) 



Play 



503 



ClubsI 



Secret Societies: 

Girls 

Boys 

Predatory : 

THE ) Girls 

GANG j Boys. 
Social Clubs: 

Girls 

Boys 

Industrial: 

Girls 

Boys 

Philanthropic: 

Girls 

Boys 

Literary Art: 

Girls 

Musical : 

Boys 

Athletic: 

Girls 

Boys 



8 yrs. 


II yrs. 


12 yrs. 


13 yrs. 


17 yrs. 


3 


4 
4 




5 



I 





I 
7 





31 


18 
3 













I 

2 

4 






22 
7 

54 
II 


6 
I 




















15 

78 











Total 

Number 



67 
23 

25 
II I 

104 

28 

187 

59 

22 
II 

65 

28 

69 

406 



Miss Ravenhill's study (made in winter and in school) 
of the play preferences of 6,369 English children between 
three and thirteen years of age has some very suggestive 
features. Her general results as to the kinds of play 
liked best at different ages agree with other studies 
except that what she classes as "active social games" are 
much in the lead from beginning to end, varying from 
about 66 per cent at three to about 48 per cent at 
thirteen. She, however, interprets this as due to the 
fact that city school children are practically forced to 
play such games on account of lack of room for indi- 
vidual play, and believes that it should be discouraged. 
The reasons for playing certain games in the early years 
are predominantly subjective — because the child gets 



iThe table is given in per cents; the totals in absolute numbers. 



504 The Child 

physical or mental pleasure — at all ages with both 
boys and girls. The benefits from playing the game in 
the shape of acquiring skill and sharpness rise slowly, 
and more with boys than with girls. The maximum 
comes with boys in the twelfth year, 48 per cent giving 
objective reasons, and in the same year with girls, but 
with only 26 per cent of them. 

The favorite toys are also considered by Miss Raven- 
hill. With little girls, dolls lead overwhelmingly, the 
curve reaching its height at eight years, when 97.75 
per cent say it is the best loved toy. Their second 
choice, from three to six and at eleven, is a carriage for 
the doll, and their third choice a doll's house. Up to 
thirteen years the doll leads, but after the ninth year 
balls take second place. 

The first choice of boys of all ages is engines and trams, 
but not necessarily mechanical ones, except at six years 
when the favorite toy is a horse. The second choice 
from three to eight is some kind of wheeled toy; from 
nine to twelve a ball; and at thirteen a magic lantern. 
Their third choice has a wide range. From three to 
five years it is the ball; and again at seven the ball; 
at. eleven a magic lantern, and at twelve a cricket set. 

The reasons for liking the toy fall into three chief 
classes. The "make-believe" or dramatic instinct is 
much less prominent than the other two, and is about 
the same for boys and girls. It begins with 9 per cent 
of the children at four years, reaches its height in 18 
per cent at six, and then diminishes again to 9 per 
cent at thirteen, with a fall to about 4 per cent at ten. 
The enjoyment of the physical activity focused about 
the toy is greatest at three, about 70 per cent for both 
boys and girls. It diminishes somewhat irregularly 
with the girls, with a slight rise from eight to nine, and 



Play 505 

another from twelve to thirteen, ending with 32 per 
cent. With the boys, rather curiously, there is a steady 
diminution which is rather rapid to the tenth year (18 
per cent) and is then very slow to about 16 per cent at 
thirteen. Some form of emotional satisfaction includes 
the third set of reasons. With girls this begins with 
31 per cent at three, and reaches its height in 65 per 
cent at twelve, with a fall to 48 per cent at thirteen. 
With the boys it begins with 20 per cent at three, and 
rises to 69 per cent at eleven, with a very slight fall 
thence to 64 per cent at thirteen. 

The psychological value of play has already been 
touched upon in the theory of play, and so we will 
emphasize here only its especial importance Psycholoei- 
for nervous children. Wisely directed play cal value 
can often be made a cure for hysteria, o P *y 
chorea, stuttering, and other such nervous diseases, 
where development of the muscular control, such as can 
be gained in play, is a desideratum. 

In the cities also, where children do not naturally get 
the exercise that a country or a village child gets, it is 
imperative that the exercise should be obtained through 
play, not only because the body is so developed, but 
especially because, as we have already seen, the highest 
mental and moral virtues cannot easily flourish where the 
body is dwarfed. 

Play is an important method of realizing the social 
instincts, and at this point we run across imitation 
again. The younger animals in their play Social value 
are always imitating the older ones in their o^ P^^y 
hunting and fighting, carrying it to great lengths at times. 

Children in their play with each other have a most 
important aid to social development. 

I. They gain flexibility of mind and self-control. 



5o6 The Child 

Plays quicken the various mental processes. Some 
cultivate perception and close observation; others, imagi- 
nation; others require quick and accurate judgment, 
and so on. Many cultivate all of these to a marked 
extent. Self-control is given by all games to a certain 
extent, for a child learns to meet failure with equa- 
nimity, but competitive games especially cultivate this. 
In all cases where the play is not too intense, the whole 
emotional nature is gladdened and made buoyant. 
"Play is the recruiting" office and drill sergeant of all the 
powers of the child." 

2. They have endless opportunities for imitation 
and invention. 

The children in any group always divide into two 
classes — the leaders and the led, the relatively inven- 
tive and the relatively imitative — but there is more or 
less changing of parts here. The imitative child may 
come to school with a new or taking trick, and thus 
become the leader temporarily. In both cases, each 
child learns his own powers and those of the others as 
compared with him. He gets a certain place in the 
group, which he can change if he can develop the neces- 
sary qualities. He finds the value of cooperation in all 
games where sides are taken, and at the same time the 
value of individuality and originality if one has ambi- 
tions to be a leader. Baldwin says: "To exhibit what 
I can do alone is to exhibit my importance as an ally. 
The sense of my weakness in myself is a revelation to 
me of my need of you as an ally. The presence of a 
stronger than either is a direct incitement to quick 
alliance between you and me against him. And the 
victory gained by the alliance is both a confirmation to 
us of the utility of social cooperation and a convincing 
proof to him that society is stronger than the individual. 



Play 507 

The spirit of union, the sense of social dependence as 
set over against the spirit of private intolerance; the 
habit of suspension of private utilities for the larger social 
good; the willingness to recognize and respond to the 
leadership of the more competent — all this grows grandly 
on the playground of every school." 

The classical example of the social value of play at 
its best is given in the "Story of a Sandpile." The 
story began when two boys, three and five «<story of a 
years old, had a pile of sand to play in, and Sandpile" 
extended over nine years, the play being resumed each 
summer. The first two summers the play was of a 
desultory character, digging, making things that were 
soon destroyed, and so on; but by degrees it assimied 
an organized character, children of the neighborhood 
were drawn in, and a miniature village was made. The 
village was laid out in streets; houses, barns, and other 
buildings were whittled out, as were also people and 
animals. Gradually a government was evolved, each 
boy expressing the opinions and doing the work of the 
doll-men who occupied his section of the village. Courts 
were established, town meetings were held, and all- the 
business of a town was transacted, although, of course, 
crudely. The village thus became an excellent training 
school in good citizenship. . 

The play was carried on only in the summer, but 
while in their city homes through the winter the boys 
would make new men and implements and get all the 
mechanism of the town ready for the next summer. 
They had set forms for their men, houses, etc., from 
which they rarely deviated, although as they grew older 
they saw the crudity of them. As the boys reached 
adolescence, they began to lose interest in the village, 
they became conscious of the observation of their play, 



So8 The Child 

and gradually the village became once more only a sand 
pile, having served fully its educational function. 

It seems hardly possible, in view of all these facts, 
to overestimate the value of play, and here, as in so 
many other cases, we see again the importance of educa- 
tion following the leading of the child. 

In conclusion, then, we may say that from the very 
earliest time, play has been recognized as a valuable 
means of education, and that to-day it is used system- 
atically in many schools to develop the child when the 
appliances of formal education fail. 

At all ages, the social value of play is great, because by 
it each child is made to see his dependence upon others 
and his own use to them. Through it he is educated for 
good citizenship in the world of work. 



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Play 509 

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Play 511 

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1913. $0.75. 
Claretie, Leo. Les jouets, histoire, fabrication. Quantin, Paris, 

1894. 325 PP- 
Jackson, Mrs. O. N. Toys of Other Days. Scribner's, 1908, 

309 pp. 
Johnson, G. F. Toys and Toy Making. Lond., 1912, 160 pp. 
Poulsson, Laura E. Thoughts for Toybuyers. Kgn. Rev., Dec. 

1901, 190-6. 
Schmidt, O. E. Dolls, Dead and Alive. Caton, 191 1, 42 pp. 
Starr, Laura B. The Doll Book. Outing Pub. Co., 1908, 238 pp. 
Swannell, M. Toymaking for Little Children. Child Life, Feb. 

15, 1913, 51-55- 

Wardle, Phyllis. Tools and a Boy. Kgn. Rev., 1901, Vol. XI, 
267-270. 

Games and Plays 

Allen, Annie W. Home, School and Vacation. Houghton, MifBin, 
1907, 220 pp. 

Angell, Emmett D. Play . . . Games for Kindergarten, Play- 
ground, etc. Little, Brown, 1910, 190 pp. 

Bailey, Carolyn S. Rainy Day Plays. Kgn. Rev., 1908, 30-33, 
100-103. 

Bancroft, Jessie H. Games. Macmillan, 1909, 456 pp. 

Barker, J. S. Games for the Playground. Longmans, 1910, 65 pp. 

Cary, C. B. Plays and Games for Schools. Madison, 191 1, 86 pp. 

Champlin, J. D., and Bostwick, A. E. Young People's Encyclo- 
pedia of Games and Sports. Holt and Co., N. Y. $2.50. 

Chesterton, Thomas. Organized Playground Games. Ed. Supply 
Assn., Lond., 1901, 115 pp. 

Dowd, Emma C. Playtime Games for Boys and Girls. Jacobs, 
Phila., 1912. $0.75. 

Elston, F. Organized Games. Arnold and Son, Leeds, 1904, 192 pp. 

Gomme, Alice B. Children's Singing Games. Macmillan, N. Y. 
f 1.50. (Pictures, directions, and music for the games.) 

Hofer, Marie R. Children's Singing Games, Old and New. Flan- 
agan, Chicago, 1 90 1, 42 pp. 

Kimmins, Grace T. Guild of Play Book of Festival and Dance. 
3 vols. Curwen and Sons, Lond., 1907-10 (pictures, music, 
and rimes), 5s. per vol. 



512 T h e C h 1 1 d 

Lamkin, Nina B. Play, jts Value and Fifty Games. Holbrook- 

Barber Co., Chicago, 1907, 91 pp. 
Lincoln, Jeannette E. C. Maypole Possibilities. Am. Gymnasia 

Co., 1907, 56 pp. 
Lucas, E. V. and E. What Shall We Do Now? Richards, Lond., 

1900, 364 pp. 

Murray, E. R., et al. Kindergarten Games. Child Life Sup., 

1901, 169-184. 

Neal, Mary. Esperance Morris Book. Curwen and Sons, Lond., 

1910, 64 pp. 
Newton, Marion B. Graded Games and Rhythmic Exercises for 

Primary Schools. N. Y., 1908, no pp. 
Page, Mary B. Plays and Games of the Kindergarten. Ele. 

Sch. Teach., 1909, 341-358. 
Parsons, Belle R. Plays and Games for Indoors and Out. Barnes, 

1909, 215 pp. 
Reindorp, Jacques. Record of the Toolhouse Club. Low, Lond., 

1911,238 pp. 
Scharlieb, Mary A. D. Recreational Activities of Girls during 

Adolescence. Child Study, 191 1, 1-14; Child, 191 1, 571-586. 
Smith, David E. Number Games and Rhymes. Teach. Col. Rec, 

Nov. 1912, i-iio. 
Stoneroad, Rebecca. Gymnastic Stories and Plays for Primary 

Schools. Heath, 1907, 150 pp. 
Stoudt, J. B. Pennsylvania German Riddles and Nursery Rhymes. 

Jour. Am. Folk Lore, 1906, 113-121. 



CHAPTER XXI 
The Child in a Democracy 

AND now let us gather up the many threads and 
view as a whole the pattern which we have been 
weaving. We have considered the child in abstraction 
from many standpoints — as a physical organism sub- 
ject to diseases and needing numerous provisions in 
the way of medical and dental care, good food, air, and 
exercise. We have looked on him as a perceptive ani- 
mal, as a motor being, as remembering, imagining, and 
reflecting, as conscience stricken, worshipful, emotional, 
artistic, musical, and playful. But the whole child, as 
has been implied from start to finish, is all these and 
more than all these at once. The most significant thing 
of all is that the growth of his personality in any direc- 
tion is a matter of stimulus and reaction between himself 
and his surroundings, and that for the child the "sur- 
roundings" are primarily the people about him. He 
gets his physical environment only as modified by per- 
sons. The baby, as we saw, has no opportunity to sepa- 
rate even his food from his mother; and thus from the 
beginning persons are the most interesting things of all. 
The later development of his personality through the 
constant interactions between himself and others has 
also been indicated at various places, and we have seen 
that a large part of his moral training consists in making 
these interactions of such a character that social approval 
shall be bound up with the good and disapproval with 
the bad. 

513 



514 The C hild 

In a democracy this consensus of feeling and opinion 
is of especial importance, inasmuch as it is the true 
power of government — the power which determines 
the casting of votes. 

When manhood — or full — suffrage prevails, the success 
of the government depends in the long run on the 
interest, intelligence, and social virtues of those who 
cast the votes. But these are the outcome of all their 
previous training. The fathers of our country, we 
realize more and more, were fundamentally right in 
their belief that only universal education could preserve 
a democracy. 

But, say some, it has not preserved our democracy. 
We are in fact an oligarchy of the worst type. There 
has been and still is too much truth in this point of 
view, but there is still more in the more optimistic 
standpoint that democracy is still alive and is now find- 
ing worthy and pennanent forms of expression and of 
training. These are what we wish briefly to consider now. 

Self-control on the one hand and love of social service 
on the other are the two great virtues without which 
a democracy cannot last. Neither virtue is acquired in 
a day, nor does either come by grace of himian nature, 
though both have their roots in instinct. From the 
beginning of life both are developed in the give and 
take of daily intercourse, if the family life is normal 
and wholesome, and when the child enters school a 
more formal training in both should begin. Here the 
problem of the relation between teacher and pupil is 
the paramount one. Should the school be an absolute 
monarchy or a democracy? Is the teacher one of the 
school or outside of it? 

We have heard much of pupil self-government in the 
last few years, both of its successes and its failures. 



The Child in a Democracy 515 

The term itself covers many dififerent things, from sys- 
tems in which the pupils take entire control of the disci- 
pline to those in which only one or two miimportant 
features are given into their hands. In some cases 
very complicated apparatus is introduced, such as all 
the officials and methods of a city or state government. 
To what extent are children capable of this, and how 
far is it wholesome for them? Teachers considering 
the introduction of some such system should get both 
sides of the question, as indicated in our references. 
Our own opinion is briefly this: 

First as to the teacher's attitude. A true teacher 
has in mind only one thing, that is, the growth of her 
pupils. She no more takes the attitude of a czar than 
she does that of an outsider. Her business is to give 
each child just as much opportunity to control himself 
and to help others as he can possibly use, and to inter- 
vene when he has reached the limit of his ability at any 
given time, both to save the others from him and to 
save him from his own errors, which he will soon out- 
grow unless left to them. She will as far as possible 
always enlist pupils in making the regulations necessary 
for the schoolroom management, but she will precede 
this by getting a spirit of friendly cooperation, and 
at certain points, when the children's judgment and 
moral sense are still defective, she will take the control 
into her own hands. The m.ost important question that 
she has to determine is how far the children in her room 
are capable of self-government. 

The answer to this question comes from observation. 
We know that the period from seven to twelve years is 
primarily one of individualism, if not of actual com- 
petition. The spontaneous games of children at this 
time are those in which each child has plenty of chance 



5i6 The Child 

to go on alone, to emulate others. Teams are rarely 
found, and the same is true of clubs and organizations. 
At about eleven years, however, the curve for clubs 
and societies begins to rise sharply and goes up rapidly 
for at least six or seven years. This seems to indicate 
a natural point at which self-government may be intro- 
duced if other conditions are favorable. Undoubtedly 
under some teachers a large degree of self-government 
will succeed even in the primary grades, but one may 
fairly ask whether it is well to force the child too soon 
into work for which he certainly has little natural desire 
at this time. We do not mean to say that in the primary 
grades there should be no mutual help between teachers 
and pupils. Quite the contrary. The wise teacher will 
be laying here the fomidations for the enlarged social 
activities that properly belong in the grammar grades. 
In the grammar grades we do believe that some form of 
self-government is not only possible but desirable, but 
it should be understood that this does not mean the 
exclusion of the teacher. The teacher too is part of the 
school, and her chief task in a self-government system 
is to keep the ideals high without forcing the children 
too much. The give and take between teacher and 
pupils, the genuine training in the ideals of democracy 
thus made possible, is the great gain in any self- 
government system. If the teacher stands to one side 
and considers the discipline none of her business, the 
plan is very likely to fail, for children and youth, even 
college youth, are, as we have seen, still rather unde- 
velqped in the social virtues. Cliques are likely to 
develop, rank injustice to appear, and the plan will 
finally be rooted out as a failure, when the true failure 
is the indifferent teacher. 
Self-government in schools, from the grammar grades 



The Child in a Democracy 517 

through the college, is in reality a training in self- 
government, we might almost say a trial of self-govern- 
ment. It must be admittedly incomplete to some degree 
if we admit that pupils are morally immature, and it 
must derive a large part of its inspiration and ideals 
from the teacher if the teacher is truly a teacher and 
the pupils, pupils. But as an instrument for teaching the 
ideals and methods of democracy, for breaking down 
the spirit of clique and caste, and for developing a sense 
of social responsibility and a habit of socialized behavior, 
it can scarcely be equaled. 

The particular form that it assumes is relatively unim- 
portant, except that with the grammar grades the form 
should be as simple as possible. 

Coincident with the spread of self-government within 
the schools has gone the enlargement of the school ideal 
in all directions. We have already briefly indicated 
how the school has taken up the work of medical inspec- 
tion, and even the mother's work of feeding and bathing 
the child. Now it is beginning to choose his vocation 
and to train him for it, to say nothing of taking charge 
of his play hours and vacation months. What does 
this great movement mean? Is the child to be taken 
out of the home entirely, and shall we end by having 
public nurseries, as Plato suggested, to which children 
will be entrusted as soon "after birth as possible? The 
Montessori schools take three-year-old children and 
keep them all day, and day nurseries in our cities take 
babies. 

But such a fear is not justified. Rather, the child is 
bringing the home to the school, as Ward points out, in 
the great movement now going on to make the school 
the social center. "America in the public school has 
taken the child and set him in the midst as Jesus took 



5i8 7 h e C h i id 

the child and set him in the midst. The invigorating 
atmosphere of the child's unfoldment is the breath of 
life. The light of the child's presence in the thought 
of men and women enables them to see. The place of 
the children's education, at the center of the neigh- 
borhood, has in its freedom from dogma, its democratic 
foundation, its limitless aspiration, its vital character, 
not only the most powerful dynamic possibility for 
molding the future, but in its use by men and women 
to-day . . . the certainty of developing . . . the 
power to feel, to suffer and enjoy in terms of the mem- 
bership of the neighborhood." 

In this larger use of the school plant — which, it should 
never be forgotten, belongs to all of the people and 
not to the School Board — are included not only evening 
schools and vacation schools but also the use of the 
rooms for neighborhood gatherings of all sorts. Ward 
says there should be at least three organizations, one 
for adults, one for young men, and one for young women, 
and the whole system should be under the direction 
of either the school principal or his assistant, who 
should be definitely engaged and paid for this work, 
while some of their clerical work should be passed over 
to clerks. But the work soon spreads beyond these 
narrow limits. In the cities classes and clubs of all 
sorts spring up, children from crowded homes come 
back to study, if only a quiet place and a sympathetic 
helper are provided. Voters meet to have their alder- 
man explain civic policies; women meet to cook and sew; 
young folks come to dance and sing, and the old folks 
often join them. There is a moving-picture outfit which 
displays everything frorh the dangers of flies to the 
beauties of Italy. There is a stage with scenery and 
costumes, and pageants and plays are performed. There 



The Child in a Democracy 519 

is a playground outside with a director, open all day 
and all the year, fitted with apparatus for children and 
youth of all ages. There is the voting booth. In short, 
this school is the community home, the heart from 
which spring all the issues of life for old and young. 

Nor is this only an ideal. First realized in Rochester, 
it has been tried out with notable success in various 
other cities, and in Wisconsin is being carried out on a 
state-wide scale. The fundamental thing for success, in 
Ward's opinion, is simply that there shall be free discus- 
sion and democratic control; not control and limitation 
by the School Board but control by the citizens and use 
of the school plant as they see fit. Thus organized, he 
believes that this movement may be the regeneration 
of politics, to say nothing of its beneficial efifect upon 
the school. 

Of the many other movements for the welfare of 
children we must briefly refer to the playground move- 
ment, which has spread like wildfire over our country, 
and on which New York city alone spent over fifteen 
million dollars in ten years. The amount of good done 
in opening play spaces to children, providing directors 
for the play, preventing control by gangs and hoodlums, 
and so on, cannot be estimated. Not only is juvenile 
crime lessened but the health is improved and the child's 
right to joy protected. In Chicago notably, and in 
many other places as well, beautifully equipped build- 
ings have been erected on the playgrounds for winter 
use, and in many cases they have become to greater 
or less degree community centers. It seems unfortunate 
that this should be done, however, when the school 
buildings are available. Great sums of money have 
thus been sunk in buildings which might better have 
been spent in equipment and entertainment. 



520 The Child 

Another class of movements of great importance is 
that of organizations for young men and women. These 
base upon the tendency already noted to organize gangs 
or clubs in early adolescence, and are of the most varied 
character. Not only are there the great religious organi- 
zations, the Y. M. C. A., Y. W. C. A., Epworth League, 
Y. P. S. C. E., the Catholic sodalities, the Jewish organi- 
zations, and so on, but there are such national organiza- 
tions as the Boy Scouts, Camp Fire Girls, and all the 
college fraternities and sororities, and an infinite number 
of local societies, — athletic,, literary, dancing, and so on 
indefinitely. The danger and the good of such organi- 
zations are most obvious in the fraternities, and the 
battle wages most fiercely about them, but the same 
problems are met to some degree in every club. Who 
are to be taken in and who left out? And how can the 
one left out not be hurt and the one taken in not exalted ? 
If every one belongs to some club, nevertheless one club 
soon becomes more select, or there are ranks within the 
club, and some never get to the center. 

That is, we seem to have here not a simple question 
of class caste, which faculties can repress at will, but 
the much deeper question of the personal equation. 
Faculties, if wise, can do much to prevent the exaltation 
of false standards of selection, but no rules and regula- 
tions will ever make a certain type of personality a 
real member of a club, while certain others instinctively 
flock together. How to develop adaptability in the 
first and to broaden the outlook of the last to the end 
of greater liberality in both is a problem whose solution 
will probably differ in different places. Young people 
certainly cannot be expected to develop a very high 
type of organization if left to themselves, but on the 
other hand, faculty legislation too often legislates the 



The Child ina Democracy 521 

very heart out of their organizations and so they die 
while the young people are finding some other expression 
of their social nature. 

Of the numerous movements by adults to ameliorate 
the conditions of child life, to improve child-labor laws, 
conditions of living, and so on, we cannot speak here. 
They too have a large literature, and are well summed 
up in Dr. Hall's chapters on Preventive and Constructive 
Movements. 

Here we must conclude this study of the wonderful 
child nature to which we look for the regeneration in 
the race. So complex is it, so rich and so varied in 
its forms, that not even the completest study could 
fully describe it. This resume has done its part if it 
has now and then given us a new glimpse of the little 
child who stands wondering and innocent at the thresh- 
old of life, or if. it has made clearer to us the truth that 
to love children wisely we must know them well. 

REFERENCES 

Social Aspects 

Baden-Powell, Robert. Scouting for Boys. Lond., 1910, 320 pp. 
Educational Possibilities of Boy Scouts' Training. Nineteenth 

Cent., 191 1, 293-305. 
Baldwin, J. Mark. The Individual and Society. Badger, Boston, 

1911, 210 pp. 
Bates, E. W. Pageants and Pageantry. Ginn, 1912, 294 pp. 
Bawden, H. Heath. Social Character of Consciousness. Ele. 

Sch. Teach., 1904, Vol. IV, 366-376. 
Blumenfeld, R. D. Boy Scouts. Outlook, 1910, 617-629. 
Bonser, F. G. Chums: A Study in Youthful Friendships. Ped. 

Sent., 1902, Vol. IX, 221-235. 
Breckenridge, S. P., and Abbott, Edith. The Delinquent Child and 

the Home. Char. Pub. Co., N. Y., 1912, 355 pp. 
Bryant, Louise S. Bibliography of Social Service. Psy. Clinic^ 

Feb. 15, 1913, 263-268. 



522 T he C hild 

Buck, Winifred. Self-Governing Clubs. Macmillan, 1903, 218 pp. 
Call, A. D. Education versus Crime. Ed., 1902, Vol. XXII, 

587-663. (Study of the Elmira Reformatory.) 
Camp Fire Girls. Doubleday. 
Chancellor, William Estabrook. Our City Schools, their Direction 

and Management. Heath, Boston, 1908, 333 pp. 
Chesley, A. M. Social Activities for Men and Boys. Y. M. C. A. 

Press, N. Y., 1910, 304 pp.* (An account of what a local 

Y. M. C. A. can do.) 
Chubb, Percival. Festivals and Plays. Harper, 19 12, 402 pp. 

Bibliog. 
Clark, Kate Upson. Bringing up Boys. Crowell, 1899, 227 pp. 
Collier, John. Moving Pictures: Survey, 1910, 80; Clark Con. 

Child Welfare, Proc, 1910, 108; Child, 191 1, 496-501; Play- 
ground, 1910, 232-239. 
Commons, J. R. The Junior Republic. Ant. Jour. Soc, Vol. Ill, 

1897-98, 281-296; 433-448. 
Craig, Anne T. Dramatic Festival. Putnam, 19127 354 pp. 
Cronson, Bernard. Pupil Self -Government — Its Theory and Prac- 
tice. Macmillan, N. Y., 1907, 76 pp. 
Curtis, Elnora W. Dramatic Instinct in Education. Ped. Sem., 

1908, 299-346. Bibliog. 
Dewey, John. The Educational Situation. U. of Chicago Press, 

1902, 104 pp. 
Psychology and Social Practise. U.of Chicago Press, 1901,42 pp. 
The School and Society. U. of Chicago Press, 1899, 125 pp. 
Dutton, Samuel T. Social Phases of Education in the School and in 

the Home. Macmillan, Lond., 1899, 255 pp. 
Dynan, Harriet. An Experiment in Civics in the Eighth Grade 

Room. Child Study Mo., Vol. Ill, 1897-98, 87-94. 
Folks, Homer. Care of Destitute, Dependent and Neglected Children. 

Macmillan, 1902, 251 pp. (Historical.) 
Forbush, W. B. The Boy Problem. Pilgrim Press, 1907, 210 pp. 

Bibliog. 
The Boys' Round Table. 6th ed., 1908, 188 pp. (An account 

of the Knights of King Arthur.) 
The Coming Generation. Appleton, 1912, 402 pp. 
Fraternity and Social Life in High Schools. Comm. Kept., 1909, 

L. W. DeCash, Springfield, Mass., chairman. 
Fry, Emma S. Educational Dramatics. Moffat, Yard and Co., 

1913.69 pp. $0.50. 



The Child i n a D e m o c r a c y 523 

George, Wm. R. The Junior Republic. Applcton, 1910, 326 pp. 
Gill, John. System of Moral and Civic Training. N. Y. Pat. League, 

1901, 152 pp. 
Grice, Mary Van Meter. Home and School. C. Sower Co., Phila., 

154 PP- 
Gunckel, John E. Boyville: Fifteen Years of Work -with Toledo 

Newsboys, 1905, 219 pp. 
Hale, H. O. Kinematograph in School. School World, 19 12, 

361-364. 
Hall, G. Stanley. Preventive and Constructive Movements, 

Educational Problems, 191 1. 
Hartson, Louis D. Psychology of the Club. Fed. Sem., 191 1, 

353-414- 
Herts, Alice Minnie. Children's Educational Theater. Harper, 

191 1, 150 pp. 

Hill, R. C. Secret Societies in High School. Ed. Rev., Vol. XLIII, 

1912, 168-192. 

Holman, H. Children and Cinematographs. Child Study, 1910, 
99-108. 

Hull, Wm. I. The George Junior Republic. Ann. Am. Acad. Pol. 
and Sac. Sc, Vol. X, 1897, 73-96. 

Johnson, John. Rudimentary Society among Boys. Johns Hop- 
kins University Studies, 2d series, Vol. H. Also in Overland 
Mo., October 1883. (One of the best studies of spontaneous 
organizations.) 

Jump, Herbert A. Motion Pictures. Rel. Ed., 191 1, 349-354; 
Playground, 191 1, 74-84. 

King, Irving. Social Aspects of Education. Macmillan, 1912, 
425 pp. Bibliog. (Excellent both for content and ref- 
erences.) 

Langdon, U. C. Pageant of the Perfect City. Playground, 191 1, 
2-17. 
Pageant of Thetford. Playground, 191 1, 302-318. 

Law, M. W. Our Ishmael. Am. Jour. Soc, 1902-3, 838-851. 

Lindsey, Ben. B. The Juvenile Court of Denver in Campaign for 
Childhood. Charities, N. Y., Nov. 1903. 
The Beast. Doubleday, 19 10, 340 pp. 

McKeever, Wm. C. Training the Boy. Macmillan, 1913, 361 pp. 

Mangold, Geo. B. Child Problems. Macmillan, 1910, 381 pp. 
Bibliog. 

Merrill, Lilburn. Winning the Boy. Revell, 1908, 160 pp. 



524 T h e Child 

Moving Pictures. Rev. of Rev., 1910, 315-320; Puh. Lib., 1911, 19; 

Outlook, 1910, 541-542; World To-Day, 1910, 1132-1139; 

World's Work, 19 10, 128-176. 
Needham, Mary M. Folk Festivals. Huebsch, 1912, 244 pp. 
Perry, C. A. Wider Use of School Plant. Char. Pub. Com., N. Y., 

19 10, 423 pp. (Excellent.) 
Survey of Social Center Work. Ele. Sch. Teach., Nov. 1912, 

124-133- 
Policy and Standards of the National Board of Censorship of 

Motion Pictures. Revised, May 1914, People's Institute, 

70 Fifth Ave., N. Y., 23 pp. 
Puffer, J. Adams. The Boy and His Gang. Houghton, MifBin, 

1912, 187 pp. 
Boys' Gangs. Ped. Sem., 1905, Vol. XII, 175-212. 
Purcell, Helen E. Children's Dramatic Interest. Ele. Sch. Teach., 

1907, 510-518. 

Ross, E. A. Social Psychology. Macmillan, 1908, 372 pp. 
Russell, Ernest. Most Popular Play in the World. Outing, Jan. 

1908, 463-479. (Puppet plays.) 

Scott, Colin A. Social Education. Ginn, 1908, 300 pp. 

Seton, Ernest Thompson. Boy ScotUs of America. Doubleday, 

1910, 192 pp. 
Shaw, Clara. Experiments in Self-Organized Group Work. Soc. 

Ed. Quart., Mar. 1907, 16-28. 
Sheldon, H. D. Institutional Activities of American Children. 

Am. Jour. Psy., Vol. IX, 425-448. 
American Student Societies. Appleton, 1901, 366 pp. 
Simmel, G. Sociology of Secrecy and Secret Societies. Am. Jour. 

Soc, 1906, Vol. XI, 441-498. 
Stelzle, Charles. Boys of the Street. Revcll, 1904, 96 pp. 
Stowe, Lyman Beecher. School Republics. Outlook, Dec. 26, 

1908, 939-948- 
Swift, Edgar J. Some Criminal Tendencies of Boyhood. Ped. 

Sem., 1901, Vol. VIII, 65-91. 
Talbot, E. S. Juvenile Female Delinquents. Alien, and Neur., 

1902, Vol. XXIII, 16-27; 163-175. 
Thurston, H. W. Training for Citizenship in the Public Schools, 

Sch. Rev., 1898, Vol. VI, 577-597. 
Urwick, E. J, (cd.). Studies of Boy Life in Our Cities. Dent, 

Lond., 1904, 320 pp. 
Wallin, J. E. W, The Moving Picture, Ped, Sem., 1910, 129-142, 



The Child in a D e m o c r a c y 525 

Ward, Edward J. The Social Center. Appleton, 1913, 359 pp. 
$1.50. (Wider use of school plant. Very complete account 
of the Rochester method. Bibliography.) 

Wild, Lena H. Training for Social Efficiency. Series in Ed., 
from Oct. 1912 to Mar. 1913. 

Young, Ella F. Some Types of Modern Educational Theory. U. 
of Chicago Press, 1902, 70 pp. 
See also Proceedings of the Conference for the Care of 
Dependent Children, of the International Congress for the 
Welfare and Protection of Children, of the National Associa- 
tion of Social Centers, and of the Playground Association. 



34 



KEY TO ABBREVIATIONS IN REFERENCES FOUND 
IN "THE CHILD" 

Alien, and Neur Alienist and Neurologist 

Am. Acad. Pol. & Soc. Sc 

American Academy Political and Social Science 

Am. Anthrop American Anthropologist 

Am. Breeders Mag 

Am. Jour. Ed American Journal of Education 

Am. Jour. Folk Lore 
Am. Jour. Insanity 
Am. Jour. Med. Sc. 
Am. Jour. Phys. . 
Am. Jour. Psy. 
Am. Jour. Pub. Hygiene 
Am. Jour. Rel. Psy. 
Am. Jour. Soc. 
Am. Jour. Theol. 
Am. Lib. Assn, 

Am. Mag 

Am. Med 

Am. Nat 

Am. Phys. Ed. Rev. . 
Am. Sch. Bd. Jour. . 
Am. Sch. Home Econ. 
Am. Statis. Assn. Pub. . 



Medical Science 
. Physiology 
Psychology 
. Public Hygiene 
Religious Psychology 
Sociology 
. Theology 
Library Association Magazine 
The American Magazine 
Medicine 
.Naturalist 
Physical Education Review 
School Board Journal 
. School and Home Economics 
Statistical Association Publications 



Annales de la Faculty des Lettres de Bordeaux 



Archives of Otology 

Archives of Pediatrics 

Archives de Psychologic 

Archives of Psychology 



Arch. Otol 

Arch, of Ped 

Arch, de Psy 

Arch, of Psy. 

Archiv fiir die Gesammte Psychologic 

Assn. Sem Association Seminar 

Bibliotheca Sacra 

Biometrika 

Birm. Med. Rec Birmingham Medical Record 

Bost. Nor. Sch. Gym. . .Boston Normal School of Gymnastics 
Brit. Assn. Adv. Sc. British Association for Advancement of Science 

Brit. Jour. Psy British Journal of Psychology 

526 



Key to Abhr eviatton s 527 

Brit. Med. Jour British Medical Journal 

Bull, de la Soc. Libre .... Bulletin de la Societe Libre 

Bull, of Nat. Soc. for Promotion of Ind. Ed. 

National Society for Promotion of Industrial Education 
Bull. Bureau of Education, Washington, D. C. . . . • . 

C. S. M Child Study Monthly 

Ch. Wei. Mag Child Welfare Magazine 

Cleveland Med. Jour. . . . . . . Medical Journal 

Columbia Univ. Contr. to Phil., Psy., and Ed. .... 

Contributions to Philosophy, Psychology, and Education 

Contemp. Rev Contemporary Review 

Diet, of Psy. Med. . . .Dictionary of Psychological Medicine 

Econ. Jour Economics Journal 

Ed. Education 

Ed. Rev Educational Review 

Ele. Sch. Teach Elementary School Teacher 

Eugenics Ed. Soc Eugenics Education Society 

Eng. Rev. English Review 

Fort. Rev Fortnightly Review 

Gale's Psy. Studies Psychological Studies 

Or. Brit. Dept. Com. . Great Britain Department of Commerce 

Inland Ed Educator 

Int. Arch. f. School Hygiene 

International Archives for School Hygiene 

Int. Jour. Ethics . . . . International Journal Ethics 

Int. Quart International Quarterly 

Jour. Abn. Psy Journal Abnormal Psychology 

Jour. Am. Folk Lore .... Journal American Folk Lore 
Jour. Am. Med. Assn. . Journal American Medical Association 

Jour. Am. Pub. Health Assn 

Journal American Public Health Association 

Jour, of Anthrop. Inst, of G. B. and Ire 

. Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland 

Jour, of Ed Journal of Education 

Jour. Ed. Psy Journal of Educational Psychology 

Jour. Exp. Ped Journal of Experimental Pedagogy 

Jour. Laryn., Rhin. and Otol 

Laryngology, Rhinology, and Otology 

Jour. Med. Res Medical Research 

Jour. Nerv. and Ment. Dis. . . Nervous and Mental Diseases 
Jour, of Ped Journal of Pedagogy 



528 The Child 

Jour. Ophth., Otol. and Laryn 

Ophthalmology, Otology and Laryngology 

Jour, of Phil., Psy. and Sci. Meth 

Philosophy, Psychology and Scientific Methods 

Jour, of Phys Physiology 

Jour. Prev. Med Preventive Medicine 

Jour. Psychoasth Journal of Psycho-Asthenics 

Jour. Roy. Stat. Soc Royal Statistical Society 

Kgn. Rev Kindergarten Review 

Lib Library 

Littel's Liv. Age Living Age 

Mag. of Art Magazine of Art 

Man. Train. Mag Manual Training Magazine 

Med. Mag Medical Magazine 

Med. Rev Medical Review 

Montreal Med. Jour Medical Journal 

Mus. Teach. Nat. Assn. . Music Teachers' National Association 

N. Am. Rev. North American Review 

N. E. Mag New England Magazine 

N. Y. Med. Jour 

N. Y. Teach. Mon. . . . New York Teacher's Monographs 

N. W. Mo Northwestern Monthly 

Nat. Con. Char. Corr 

. National Conference of Charities and Corrections 

Nineteenth Cent 

Ophth. Rec Ophthalmological Record 

Paid. Paidologist 

Parent's Rev 

Pediatrics 

Ped. Sem Pedagogical Seminary 

Phil. Rev Philosophical Review 

Phil. Studien Philosophische Studien 

Pop. Sc. Mo Popular Science Monthly 

Proc. Am. Assn. Adv. Sc 

Proceedings American Association for Advancement of Science 
Proc. Am. Phil. Soc. Proceedings American Philosophical Society 
Proc. Assn. of Phys. Ed. . Association of Physical Education 
Proc. Int. Cong. Ed. . . International Congress cf Education 

Proc. Int. Cong. School Hygiene 

Proc. Nat. Assn. for Study and Ed. Excep. Ch 

Education of Exceptional Children 



Key to Abbreviations 529 

Proc. N. E. A National Education Association 

Psy. Bull Psychological Bulletin 

Psy. Clinic Psychological Clinic 

Psy. Rev Psychological Review 

Pub. Health Public Health 

Pub. Lib Public Library 

Rel. Ed. Religious Education 

Rept. U. S. Com. Ed. Report of U. S. Commissioner of Education 
Rev. Neur. and Psy. . . Review of Neurology and Psychology 

Rev. Phil Revue Philosophique 

Russell Sage Foun. . Publications of Russell Sage Foundation 

Sch. Rev " . .School Review 

Soc. Ed. Quart. . . . Sociological Education Quarterly 

Soc. Rev Sociological Review 

Soc. of Soc. Hygiene .... Society of Social Hygiene 

Teach. Coll. Cont. to Ed 

. . . . Teachers' College Contributions to Education 

Texas Acad, of Sc Texas Academy of Science 

Trans. Am. Philol. Assn 

. Transactions of American Philological Association 
Trans. 111. Soc. C. S. . . lUinois Society for Child Study 

U. of Iowa Studies in Psychology 

U. of Mont. Studies 

West. Rev Westminster Review 

Yale Rev 

Yale Psy. Lab. Studies . . Psychological Laboratory Studies 
Zeit. f. ang. Psy. . . Zeitschrift ftir angewandte Psychologic 

Zeit. f. Psy. u. Physiol, d. Sinnesorgane 

. Zeitschrift fiir Psychologic und Physiologic des Sinnesorgane 

Zeit. f. pad Psy. u. exp. Pad 

Zeitschrift fiir padagogische Psychologie und experimentelle 
Padagogik. 



THE INDEX 



Accommodation of lenses, 149. 
Adding tests, 66. 
Adenoids, 42, 72. 
Adolescent, 90-100, 210, 278. 
Esthetic interest, 115, 215, 438, 444, 

445, 46s, 466. 469. 
Age, 29; physiological, 30-31; relation 

of, to disease, 20. 
Air. 44-45. 7i. 
Altruism, 214, 215. 
Ambitions of children, 211, 214. 
American Federation for Sex Hygiene, 

94. 
Analogy, 244-245. 
Anger, 105, 109, 322-324, 394- - 
Animals, 116, 327, 397, 500. 
Anlage, 13, 137, 492. 
Arithmetical reasoning, 251-253. 
Association, 357, 364, 373. 382; early, 

230; later, 231; reasoning by, 244. 
Astigmatism, 61. 
Astonishment, 394. 
Attention, 91, 229, 373, 428, 431. 
Aussage, 188-189, 384. 
Automatisms, 273. 
Awe, 105, 107, 263. 



Babies, first consciousness of, 225; 
range of vision of, 147. 

Babyhood, interests of, 108-110. 

Baby talk, 403. 

Barnes, on religious feelings, 261. 

Bashfulness, 319-320. 

Beauty, universal love for, 465. 

Behavior, 14. 

Bergen, on religious training, 266. 

Bible interests, 277. 

Binet, 74, 114, 232. 233, 251. 

Biology, 95, 98-99. 

Body, 236; baby's control of his, 357; 
growth in control of the, 356-366; 
growth of the, 18-32; relative propor- 
tions in child and adult, 19. 

Boys, tastes of, 418. 

Brain, 91, 137. 

Breathing, 340. 

Bronchial disease, 21, 37. 

Bullying, 291, 324. 



Caprices, 120. 
Caresses, 330, 331, 394. 
Cause, no, in, 241-243, 264, 267. 
Chicken pox, 39. 



Child, active type (Masochism), 88; 
contents of mind of, 116, 117, 163- 
164; exceptional, 170; first vocabu- 
lary of, 404-405; ideas of the, 238; 
imitation in, 375-380; in a democ- 
racy, 513-521; moral ideas of the, 
292; nervous, 69; neurasthenic, 71; 
passive type (Sadism), 88; religious 
feeling and moral sense in the, 269; 
retarded, 72; size of vocabulary of, 
416; speech, 415; theological ideas 
of the, 267-268; versus man, 20. 

Childhood, interests of early, 10; 
interests of later, 112. 

Child study, 9, 15, 16. 

Chorea, 72. 

Climate and growth, 28. 

Climbmg, 347. 

Clothes, 106, 236. 

Clubs, 503, 520. 

Collections, 112, 113. 

Color, IIS, 406. 

Colored hearing, 191-194. 

Color sense, 314, 466-469. 

Common diseases and defects, 36-50. 

Comparisons, 226. 

Conception and reasoning, 224-257. 

Concepts, 115,225, 238,412-413; incom- 
pleteness of child's, 229; of growth, 
235; of number, 234; origin of the, 
228. 

Conscience, 279, 289. 

Consciousness, 371; at birth, 140; 
prenatal. 136. 

Contents of children's minds, 116-117, 
136, 163-166, 238-239. 

Control of the body, growth in, 356-366. 

Convergence of eyes, 148. 

Conversion, 269-276. 

Corporal punishment, 294. 

Counting, in, 234. 

Courage, 290-291. 

Creeping, 109, 346. 

Criminal, 122, 289. 

Cross-eye, 148. 

Cruelty, 291, 324, 329. 

Crying, 104, 393. 399- 

Culture epochs, 121. 

Curiosity, 89, 95, 104, 105, 254, 291. 

Custom, 246. 



Dalcroze eurythmics, 435. 
Dances, love, 433; religious, 433; work, 
432. 



530 



The Index 



531 



Dancing, 359, 424-461; origin of, 431. 
Deaf children and fear, 317. 
Death, 265, 266. 
Deductive reasoning, 250. 
Defectives, 351; mental, 72-76; moral, 

76-77, 30i. 
Defects, 36-50. 
Desks, 49. 
Digestion, 43; disturbances of, 21, 37, 

«4S- 
Diphtheria, 41. 
Diseases, 36-50; ability to resist, 29-30; 

relation of age to, 29-30; symptoms 

of, 38. 
Docility, 290. 
Dogma, 281. 

Doing, feeling, and thinking, 9-17. 
Dolls, 498, 499. 
Dramatic instinct, 559, 431-432, 497, 

500. 
Drawing, 393, 465-483; outlines, 477; 

of stories, 479. 

Ear, diseases, 41; see also Hearing. 
Education, periods of growth and, 29. 
Educational bearings, 254. 
Efficiency, 365-366. 
Embryo, development of, lo-il, 137. 
Emotions, 91, 96, 112, i6i, 177, 437- 

438; feelings and, 313-332. 
End, see Means. 

Evil, conception of good and, 285-307. 
Exceptional children, 166-170. 
Experimenting by child, 241. 
Eyes, diseases of, 41, first movement of 

babies', 147, 148. 

Farsight, 60. 

Fatigue, 62-64, I9i. 323, 361; signs of, 
68; variety and, 66. 

Faults, 286, 298. 

Fear, 13, 65, 104, 106-107, 109, 209, 
293. 31S-321; percentage of, 317- 

Feeling, 88, 91, 95, 437-438; and emo- 
tions, 313-332; thinking and doing, 
9-17. 

Fighting, 109, 291. 

Finger control, growth of, 360. 

Flowers, 469. 

Food, 21-22, 37, 69, 70, 71, 88, 91, 109, 
no, 139, 144-145; objects, 105-106; 
relation of size to, 27. 

Forgetting, 183-184. 

Fraternities, 520. 

Friendship, 119, 302. 

Froebel on play, 488. 

Games, no, 502. 

Gastro-intestinal disease, 37. 

Gesture, 393, 395-396; connection with 

words, 396; the primitive language, 

396. 



Girls, tastes of, 418. 

God, child 's images of, 264. 

Good and evil, conception of, 285-307. 

Good breeding, 302; in teacher, 385. 

Grasping, no, 135, 153, 154. 

Gregariousness, 108, 109, no. 

Group study, 15. 

Growth, 20-21, 27, 23s, 426; at puberty, 
90-91; and education, 29; in control 
of the body, 356-366; of the body, 
18-32, 26, 27; rhythms of, 25-26, 351. 

Gymnastics, 493-494. 



Habit, 173-176, 246, 287, 288, 289, 383; 
importance of good, 176. 

Hall, G. Stanley, on contents of chil- 
dren's minds, 116-117. 

Hand, evolution of the, 360. 

Hand grasp, 68, 151, 153-154. 34i. 360. 

Health, 288-300, 323, 337, 351; in rela- 
tion to fear, 320, 321. 

Hearing, 62, 72, 108, 138-139, 141, 145, 
158, 162, 314, 439; defects of, 60-77; 
sight, and nervous system, 60-77. 

Height, 18, 24, 25-26, 90. 

Heredity, 72, 75, 77, 99, 103. 

Heroism, 116, 117. 

Historical sense, 234. 

Home and school, 67. 

Honesty, 296, 298. 

Honor, 289, 297, 298. 

Hope, 104. 

Humidity, 47-48. 

Humor, 328. 

Hunger, 13, 109, 139, 314. 

Hygiene, 300, 301; instruction in, 93. 

Hyperopia, 60. 

Hypnotism, 372. 



Ideals, 29, 91, 119, 210-220, 289, 304; 
the child's, 216. 

Idleness, 96. 

Illusions, 383. 

Imagery, 178-183, 201, 232. 

Imagination, in, 200-220, 229; and 
reason, 205, 240; and lying, 206; 
memory and, 201. 

Imitation, no, 207-208, 272, 373, 374, 
380, 381, 408, 493. 497, S06; and 
suggestion, 371-388; reflex, 377; 
voluntary, 377. 

Immortality, child's idea of, 265. 

Impulsive, reflex, and instinctive move- 
ments, 335-353- 

Inattention, 68, 298. 

Individual, study of, 15. 

Inductive reasoning, 247-248. 

Infant mortality, 21. 

Infectious diseases, 38-41. 

Inflections, first use of, 410. 

Influenza, 41. 

Inhibitions, 341. 



532 



The Child 



Instinct, 106. 122, 287. 301, 319. 321. 

322. 32s, 335-353, 373. 393. 398-399. 

431. 492. 
Instinctive movements, 342, 393; 

impulsive, reflex and, 335-353- 
Intelligence, 74, 124, 351. 
Interest, 67. 91, 103-125, 183, 473-474: 

of babyhood, 108; of childhood, iii- 

112; of youth, 118; religious, 112; 

race versus individual, 121. 
Invention, III, 203, 207-209, 381-382, 

408, 471-472, 494. 506. 
Irritability, 68. 



Moral instruction in school, 303. 

Morality, 96, 99, 113, 116, 118, 265, 
269, 289, 300, 303; normality and, 
287; religion and theology, 262. 

Moral suasion, 306. 

Motor control, 68, 91, 108, no, 185, 
335-353. 371-372, 396, 493. 505. 

Mouthing, 151-152. 

Mumps, 39. 

Muscular control, 358-359. 

Music, 424-461; composition by chil- 
dren, 443-444; origin of, 438. 

Myopia, 60, 147. 



Jealousy, 109, 324-327- 
Joys and sorrows, 328. 
Judgment, 225. 
Justice, 293, 294-295- 
Juvenile crime, 299; effect of play- 
ground on, 301. 
Juvenile offenses, 292, 298, 299, 301- 



Keller, Helen, 177. 
Kindergarten, 166. 



Language, in,' Ii7, 392-418; and 
thought, 412; conception and, 239; 
secret, 415-416. 

Laughing, 104, 327, 328, 394- 

Law, 246, 276, 289, 290, 487. 

Learning, 184-185. 

Lies, 205-206, 209, 230, 290, 298. 

Life-intensity, 29. 

Literature, 96, 116, 119. 

Locomotion, 345. 

Love, 89. 96, 297, 329-330, 331. 433- 



Manners, 302. 

Manual training, 363. 

Masochism, see Child. 

Means and ends, 111-112, 118; adapt- 
ing, 251. 

Measles, 40; German, 39. 

Medical inspection, 43. 

Memory, 116, 172-194, 201, 226; 
and sex, 188; age and, 190; good, 
191; educational application to, 190; 
forms, 192, 193, 194; images, 178, 181 ; 
organic, 173; span, 186; training, 189; 
unusual conditions of, 191. 

Mental arrest, 73-74. 

Mental work, 44-46, 116; and fatigue, 
64; best hours for, 66. 

Milk, 21-23. 

Milk stations, 22. 

Mispronunciation, 402. 

Modeling, 472. 

Money sense, 213-214. 

Monotony and fatigue, 66. 

Montessori schools, 166-170, 361-362. 



Nationality, and growth, 24, 28; and 

ideals, 217. 
Nature, 98, 164, 165, 425, 433-434; and 

religion, 268, 278-279; versus nur- 
ture, 103-125. 
Nearsight, 60, 147. 
Nerve cells, 399; change in, 61, 62; 

germinal, 87. 
Nervousness, 64, 69, 71, 72, 505. 
Nervous system, 13. 91, i37, 270, 320, 

358, 371, 426; sight, hearing, and, 

60-77. 
Neurasthenia, 71, 320. 
N euro-muscular system, 358. 
Neuroses, 319. 320, 426. 
Newborn child, 138-143. 
Night terrors, 320. 
Noises, child's love of, 439. 
Nose, diseases of, 42, 47. 
Number, concept of, 234; forms, 191- 

194- 



Obedience, 288-289. 

Obstinacy, 298. 

Occupations chosen by children, 211- 

213. 
Open-air schools, 46. 
Order, law and, 246. 
Organic memory, 173, 174, 225, 226. 
Organizations, 520. 
Originality, 380-381, 506. 
Overwork in public schools, 64. 
Overworry, 65. 
Ownership, 292. 



Pain, 287, 313. 314. 315. 322; see/also 

Pleasure-pain. 
Parental instinct, 352. 
Perception, 157, 162, 173, 174, 203, 

22s; sensation and, 135-170. 
Personification, no, 203-204, 256, 264. 
Persons, 107, 109-110, 115-119, 237- 

238, 513. 
Pets, 112. 
Phobias, 319-320. 
Physical conditions, 300. 
Physical exercise, 95, 97, 359, 500. 



The Child 



533 



Pictures, child's love of, 469-471; choice 
of by children, lis, 470. 

Pity, 328-329. 

Play, 96, no, 112, 434, 487-508; and 
work, 489; Anglo-Saxon boys' plays, 
502; boys' and girls', 501-502; 
character of little children's, 498; 
character of older children's, 500; 
education in, 487; Froebel on, 488; 
psychological value of, 505; social 
value of, 505; theory of, 490. 

Playgrounds, 300, 519. 

Pleasure, 287, 313, 314, 315. 

Pleasure-pain, 103-104. 

Pneumonia, 21. 

Possession, attitude toward, 292. 

Posture, 48-50. 

Prayer, 280. 

Prenatal consciousness, 136-138; pos- 
ture, 153, 338. 

Primitive race activities, 112. 

Pronunciation, 43, 402. 

Property rights, 285, 292. 

Protection, 106. 

Psychical processes, 12, 103, 136, 427, 
431, 477; gradation of, 13, 14. 

Psychology, genetic, 10. 

Puberty, 90-100. 

Punishment, 209, 289, 293-296, 305- 
306. 

Purpose, 243. 

Puzzles, 232. 



Questions, 89, 92, 97, in, 230, 254- 
257, 267, 276, 384-385. 



Race interests versus individual in- 
terests, 121. 

Rachitis, 37. 

Reading, 417-418. 

Reasoning, 115, 205, 224-257 arith- 
metical, 251; deductive, 250; induc- 
tive, 247. 

Recapitulation, 10, 13, 103, 121, 432, 
491-492. 

Recollections, earliest, 176. 

Reflex movement, 106, 151, 153, 154, 
339. 342; instinctive, impulsive, and, 
335-353- 

Reform, moral, 294. 

Regularity, 246, 276. 

Religion, 277-279, 433; adolescent, 278; 
in babyhood, 276; in public schools, 
280; of child, 264-265. 

Religious sentiment and theological 
ideas, 261-281. 

Repetition, method of, 184, 185, 186; 
value of, 378. 

Retarded children, 72. 

Revenge, 294. 

Rhythm, iii, 116, 234, 359, 424-461; 
special bodily, 427. 



Rime, 414. 
Rivalry, 65, 326-327. 
Rolling, 345. 
Rudimentary organs, 327. 



Sadism, see Child. 

St. Vitus' dance, see Chorea. 

Sandpile, story of, 507-508. 

Sanitation, 43. 

Scarlet fever, 40. 

School, and home, 67; nurses, 43; open- 
air, 46; overwork in the public, 64; 
program, 66-67; use of the, 518; 
work and growth, 29. 

School subjects, choice of, 117. 

Scolding, 306. 

Scorbutus, 37. 

Seats, 48-49. 

Secret languages, 415-416. 

Self, 235-236, 410. 

Self-abuse, 93. 

Self-consciousness, 236, 349. 

Self-control, 324, 506, 514. 

Self-government, 514-517. 

Selfishness, 330. 

Sensation, 157, 172, 181; and memory, 
172; and perception, 135-170. 

Sense organs, 91, no, 117, 118, 137- 
140, 165, 169. 

Senses and the mental life, 161. 

Sequences, 244-245. 

Sex, feelings and ideas of, 87-100; in- 
struction, 92-100; memory and, 188; 
differences in adolescents, 210; mani- 
festations, 87. 

Sight, 41, 68, 72, 137, 138, 140, 146- 
150. 158, 159, 160, 343; defects of, 
60-77; hearing, and nervous system, 
60-77. 

Singing, 434-461. 

Size, relation of food to, 27; relation of 
mental ability to, 28. 

Skin, 91; diseases, 41. 

Slang, 417. 

Sleep, 69, 71, 96. 

Smell, 138, 139, 143, 162. 

Smile, 314-315. 394- 

Sneezing, 340. 

Social centers, 517-518. 

Social instincts, 107-108, 208, 263, 376, 
382, 388, 498, 503-506, 513-514. 

Social training, importance of early, 
119. 

Social world, no. 

Solitude, 107-108, 206. 

Songs, 441; composition of, 444-461. 

Sorrows, 328. 

Sound, sensitiveness to, 145; sight and, 
158. 

Sounds, first, 400; order of, 401. 

Space, 223. 

Speech, no, 236, 239-240, 392-418, 
475- 



534 



The Child 



Stealing, 298, 299. 

Strabismus, 146. 

Study, wasteful methods of. 66. 

Subnormal children, 75, 351. 

Suggestion, 122, 273. 371-3S8. 

Sunday schools, 280. 

Symbols, 470. 

Sympathy, 108, 291, 297, 328-329. 



Talent, 123. 

Talking, no, 351. 

Taste, 138, 139, 144, 157, 162. 

Teacher, 385; and pupil, 515-517. 

Teaching instinct, 352. 

Teasing, 291, 298, 325. 

Teeth, 42-43. 

Temperature sense, 150. 

Tests of intelligence, 74. 124, 351, 361. 

Theological ideas, religious sentiment 

and, 261-281. 
Thinking, feeling, and doing, 9-17. 
Tickling, 327. 
Time, sense of, 233. 
Tones, 439-440. 
Tools, 112. 
Touch, 68, 91, 108, 138, 139, 140, 142, 

ISO, ISS-156, 157. 159-160, 161, 162, 

i6s, 168, 234, 314, 327; active, 151, 

233; passive, 151. 
Toys, 165, 360, 491. 498, 503-504. 



Training and interests, 120; social, 119. 
Truants, 72, 298, 299. 
Truth, attitude toward, 290. 
Tuberculosis, 38. 



Ventilation, 44-45. 47-48. 
Vocabulary, child's first, 404-405; 

color, 406, range in, 407; size of 

child's, 416. 
Vocational guidance, 124. 
Vocations, 123-124 210-214, 517- 
Voice, 440; change of, 91. 
Voluntary movement, 339, 357. 



Walking, 109, no, 345, 348-351- 

Warmth, 106. 

Weight, 18, 20-21, 23, 25-26, 90, 360; 

average, 23; relations in growth 

between height and, 25. 
Whipping, 306. 
Whooping cough, 39. 
Will, 385. 
Winking, 147. 
Words, invention of, 408. 
Work, 63, 66, 71, 430-431, 489-490. 
Worry, 65, 71. 



Youth, interests of, 118. 



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